The Scientist's Lament
by WolfishMoon
Summary: Following Al's restoration, the Truth sends the Elric Brothers to another universe with zero information. Neatly forged paperwork lands Ed a job teaching summer school remedial chemistry to children who are older than he is. Due perhaps to cosmic ineffability one of these summer school kids can lead the Elric brothers to precisely who the Truth had in mind. Book 6, Brotherhood.
1. The Disreputable Part of Berlin

**Author's Note:** This has been the works for a while. And given the fallout of the U.S. election, I need a distraction between protests and rallies. So I'm gonna start working on it in earnest. The first four chapters are written, and they will be released weekly on either Sunday or Monday. So that's four weeks of updates right there. Because the first Harry Potter character doesn't appear till chapter two, I will likely post that on Wednesday. So I guess we're down to three weeks of updates. But whatever.

 **Disclaimer:** WolfishMoon does not own the rights to Fullmetal Alchemist or to Harry Potter. She never claims the contrary and makes no money off of the online publication of this free-to-read fanwork.

The Scientist's Lament  
A Fullmetal Alchemist and Harry Potter Crossover Fanfiction  
By: WolfishMoon

The Truth had told them that they needed to get to England. That was all he had told them, even as Ed glowered and held to Al's emaciated shoulders. So when Ed and Al woke in Germany, slumped against the red-brick side of a bar in the disreputable part of Berlin, Ed's first instinct was to get Al to a hospital and damn the consequences.

"Brother," Al said, weakly brushing long hair over a - human! - bony shoulder. "We don't know how long a hospital visit will take. And you know what the Truth said!"

They'd never had reason to find out before, but it seemed the younger Elric was just as disregardant of his own health as the elder. Ed's shoulders sagged. "Fine. Priority, however, is clothes. Then food. Then sleep. Fast."

Al nodded tiredly as Ed pushed himself to his feet. "Can you stand?" he asked.

"Yes," Alphonse said, putting a hand beside his jutting hip bone and pushing at the ground. He slumped. "No."

Ed sighed. "I didn't think so." He pressed his hands together, feeling out the components of concrete, and of the earth below it. The equation balanced, and he put his hands to the pavement. The patch of sidewalk Al sat on sunk into the ground. Alphonse looked up, gold-brown eyes a question.

Ed took the concrete and smoothed it over the hole, leaving about three inches open for air.

"It should hold, if someone walks over you," he said. "Stay here, Al. I'll bring you clothes and food."

For a moment longer than was reassuring, there was silence. Then, "Be back soon, brother."

"Of course, Al."

The dialectic difference was more than usually annoying - more difficult to comprehend than the mushy Amestrian he'd found in Liore, even. It might have also been that most of the chatter around him was, in fact, drunk.

"Go get yourself back to the university, kid." This from the bartender. Normally, Ed would have blown up, but he rolled his eyes and put his arms on the bar. He was a bloody, sweaty mess. But at least his exposed arm was of flesh and blood. Even if it was stupidly thin.

"I'm not from the university," Ed said. "I need directions to the closest twenty-four hour store." Because the Truth didn't have it in him to send Ed to somewhere at midday.

He was given directions along with 'shorty' comments and was told to stop reciting the periodic table. Bullshit. He was only at Beryllium, and he still felt full ready to punch the man in the face.

The convenience store was hardly better. There were a few cheap t-shirts in offensive colors piled in a corner, and the food was bad. He could transmute the t-shirts. And maybe rework the food a bit too. It would have to do. He grabbed a few cans of chicken soup, and enough t-shirts to make two full sets of clothes. An atlas was added to his armload as an after glanced to the counter, felt in his pocket for his watch and cursed. He supposed there was no such thing as a State Alchemist's tab, where ever it was the Truth had seen to put him. He scowled.

In the end, Ed just transmuted a door in the back wall and hoped to hell no one noticed.

The walk back to the patch of sidewalk in which E had hidden Al was quiet and nerve wracking. He'd transmuted one of the shirts into a rucksack for the pile of cans and shirts he'd acquired, but he still felt awkward and naked. He was covered in blood and dirt, basically shirtless, with one weak and shriveled arm. But it was better than Al, completely naked and unable to even walk.

He found the patch of sidewalk and transmuted himself inside. Alphonse looked at him with tired eyes.

"I brought soup. And transmutable fabric."

"Thank you, brother." Alphonse said. And rolled his eyes when he was presented with black, more black, and a bright red coat.

It only took one eye-roll for Edward to sheepishly remove the red dye, and mix it to brown. He'd use the red for his own clothes. He alchemically brought the soup to a boil, inside its aluminum container, using a shirt to make it safe to hold.

"Start slow, Al. This is gonna be really tough."

"I know."

It only took a day for Ed to get his bearings, false records putting his age at a very false nineteen, and a job. They were in Berlin, Germany, and soon enough he'd get them to England.

Three months later, and they were in England. They had a rented flat paid for with the meager amount Edward had managed to save working at the University of Berlin.

Finally, they were in the country the Truth had wanted them to go to. But despite being on some sort of interdimensional mission for an incredibly sick god, Edward and Alphonse needed to provide themselves with the necessities. So Edward was waiting on a job interview, resume filled with fake credentials and an even faker age.

Edward nervously fingered his trench coat. It was a plain beige, and he found himself desperately wanting to transmute it. The chair was red. He could swap the colors if he wanted. Before he knew it, he found himself feeling the fabric chair upholstery. The coat was mostly cotton, so that was mostly carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen like almost all organic matter. The dye of the upholstery was... ah got it!

He had just brought his hands together when Al hissed at him to stop. He was here for a job interview. In a world where no one knew about Alchemy. They wouldn't appreciate him stripping the chair of its dye, and he chose the beige strictly because it was boring and professional.

A woman in professional blacks came out of the office and called out his name. "You're up next," she said when he looked at her. "Good luck."

Al clasped Ed's shoulder. "I know you'll get the job, brother," he said.

"Thanks," Ed said to Al in Amestrian and again to the woman in English, stood, and walked through the door, hoping that his false paperwork would hold up.

The office was plain, almost spartan in it's furnishings. There was a desk and a few chairs. Soft lavender wall paper with delicate white swirls going through it adorned the walls. "Edward Elric?" asked the woman behind the desk. She fit the spartan furnishings, but not the lavender wall paper. Not at all.

"Zat is my name," he replied. "Ms. Jenkins, correct?" He extended his hand, and she shook it firmly.

"You're rather young to be a Chemistry teacher."

"Am nineteen, vhat of it? My credentials are in order, you vill see."

She inclined her head, said, "Yes. Your resume is quite impressive. Humboldt University of Berlin, specializing in science education."

Edward nodded. He'd worked in the library there for two months and The head Librarian had agreed to help him with this shenanigan, in Equivalence to working there, on top of locating Schieska's double as his replacement.

"Indeed. Had I extra funding, I vould have liked to go into education at the college level. As it is, I am more zan qualified. Just young. I graduated high school at sixteen, and completed my college courses two and a half years avter zat. Vas too easy. Am here now."

"I take it you've had trouble getting hired. Why is that?" Ms. Jenkins twirled a pen in her fingers as she looked at him. Ed found himself looking away from the gaze.

"Age. No von vants teenager teaching teenagers, but I am legal adult," Ed said, twiddling with a button on his coat. What a lie that was. Ed felt his sixteen years of age very sharply and instead relied on falsely stern demeanor to age him.

"Well," Jenkins said after a moment of silence. "I don't really have any other options. Lots of people want the job in the English department, but no such luck for Chemistry. I'll hire you. Conditionally. You'll teach a summer school chemistry class. If I like how you teach it, you stay. I know you won't want to deal with the students who take remedial summer chemistry, but, tough."

Edward grinned. "Is Equivalence. You give me chance, I teach your delinquents. Thank you."

"Equivalence, you say," Jenkins said; a puzzled, but amused, smile came to her face.

"Conservation of Energy and Mass," Edward said, stood. "I've turned it to somezing ov a vilosovy." He extended his hand, and again they shook.

"Thank you, Ms. Jenkins."

"Don't thank me, Mr. Elric," she said, looking over purple rimmed glasses. "Classes start on Monday."

Ed's eyes widened almost uncontrollably, but he was a military man and took the news as he would an order from Colonel Bastard. Or rather, the exact opposite of how he would take an order from Colonel Bastard. He maintained his professionalism and nodded once.

"I vill be zere," he said. "I trust you have textbooks for ze children? Goot. Give me von of zem, so I may plan my lessons."

She gave him directions to the school bookstore and a note, as well as a pile of paperwork to fill out. This time, the image of Colonel Bastard did superimpose itself over the image of Jenkins, and Edward cursed. Jenkins laughed and ushered him out of the door.

"Get a Miss Erica Carlan for me," she said. "I'm interviewing her for English."

Edward nodded, said, "Just so you know, I'm bringing mein bruder viz me to class."

Jenkins gave him a hard look before pushing him fully out of the door.

Alphonse was standing when Ed looked his way, having evidently stood at the first sign of Edward's emergence. Ed smiled at him, and called out for Carlan. When that was taken care of, Ed turned his attention back to Al.

"How did it go?" Alphonse asked in Amestrian.

"Surprisingly well," Ed said, switching to the same. "I actually have the job."

"That's fantastic!"

"Well, there is a catch." Ed adjusted the base of his braid. "I have to teach remedial summer chemistry first."

Alphonse smiled. "I'm sure you'll do well, brother. And I'm sure your students will too. They probably haven't ever been given the chance to push themselves."

Ed laughed and ruffled his brother's now-short hair. "You always see the best in people, Al. I hope you're right."

 **Word Count:** 1756

For those of you chomping at the bit, the first Harry Potter character to enter the story will enter in the next chapter.

Please review and tell me what you think!


	2. Chemistry, Day One

**Author's Note:** As promised, here is chapter. There is a bit that happens toward the middle in which one of Ed's students makes something of a fool of herself in regards to conservation of matter. This scene was pulled basically word for word from the first day of my high school chemistry class. So I had to explain how conservation applies to biology to a class of high schoolers. As a high schooler. My poor chemistry teacher was so flustered.

 **Disclaimer:** WolfishMoon does not own Hiromu Arikawa's _Fullmetal Alchemist_ nor J.K. Rowling's _Harry Potter_. She never claims the contrary and makes no money off of the online publication of this free-to-read fanwork.

* * *

The Scientist's Lament

Chapter Two: Chemistry, Day One

By: WolfishMoon

* * *

Hermione Granger was sorting through muggle schools supplies while attempting to ignore a gnawing guilt in her stomach. Her mother fluttered over her shoulder as she went through her list and counted notebooks and folders and _pencils_ \- Merlin it was an adjustment, relearning how to use a pencil every summer.

"I feel like we never see you," Jean said. "Boarding witch school in the winter, regular school in the summer!"

"You know I like to stay current, mum," she said. "The closest I can get to a good maths class is Arithmancy!"

"That's the weird number hocus pocus, right?" her father, John, asked from his corner of the room. He was attempting to appear nonchalant, clear brown eyes looking over yesterday's newspaper. In reality, he'd been out of the chair three times in the last five minuets. "No loss. I always hated maths."

"Well," Jean said in the sort of tone in which one might admit they shared their child's drug habit, "Calculus was my favorite subject in high school, so I can understand your frustration."

"And its not just maths." Hermione frowned, "Science, too. There, the closest thing is potions and herbology. The first is taught by a sullen madman and the second is only once a week!" Frustration was welling up in her throat again, so Hermione forced herself to look back at her course list. Pre-Calculus, Chemistry, English Literature, French. Was that all she was taking? Yes, it was, she decided, going over her schedule. In that case, she _did_ have enough notebooks.

"You'll be leaving for that friend of yours - Ginny, was it? - house in two weeks, too!" John said.

Hermione looked at them, suddenly wanting to tell them everything. _My life is in danger, Mum, and the longer I stay here the more your lives are in danger._ "It's hard," she finally said. "I've grown accustomed to magic, and trying to stay away from it just hurts."

At this, her parents faces took on a solemnity. "Was it a mistake, sending you to Hogwarts?" John said. It might well have been a mistake but Hermione loved being a witch and was not about to say so.

"It's taken over our lives!" said Jean.

Hermione winced, said, "I know. But Hogwarts was the right choice. Soon, I'll be seventeen, and this won't be quite so difficult. I'll be allowed to use magic outside of school, then."

Her parents gave her the sort of look that she knew meant _We know you're hiding something young lady. Give it up_.

But she wasn't going to give Death Eaters a reason to kill them, or the Ministry a reason to Obliviate them.

Hermione shook her head. "We'll be fine, Dad, Mum." And for the time being, that was the end of the conversation.

* * *

By the time Monday rolled around, Ed was ready to swallow his co-workers in cement. All of them doubted his capabilities and made short jokes. They were nice enough beyond that, but those both were huge slights in Ed's book. He would prove his competence, though. He always had to and he always did, so he stood before the dull eyes of twenty delinquents, gripping a mug of coffee and wishing he could wear short sleeves in this damnable heat. But his right arm was still fairly atrophied and there would be questions. A still thin Alphonse sat in the front row, to the right side of center, grinning at him, and that had to be enough.

He wrote on the chalk board "The Conservation of Energy and Mass." Chemists might not know Alchemy, but Alchemy was what he knew, and he would structure the class accordingly.

"Is anyone villing to pass out zee periodic tables? Nein? Vell fukk you zen. You zere in zee back row, pass them out."

"Brother!" said Al in Amestrian. "Language!"

Ed responded in the same language. "Do _you_ want to pass out the periodic tables, then?"

"I could," Al said. "I don't mind."

At that a bushy haired girl ran into the classroom, backpack slung over one shoulder. "I'm sorry I'm late Professor!" she said, fighting for breath. He looked at her and motioned the other student, who was half standing, waiting for Ed to finish his exchange with Al, back into their seat.

"Professor? I vish. Mr. Elric iz fine. Don't be late again, and now pass out zee periodic tables. Equivalence, no?"

"Of course Mr. Elric!" she took the tables from his desk and brought them around. Ed said nothing and instead began to write out, as far from the conservation note as possible, the states of matter.

When she finished, she took a seat in the center seat of the front row, next to Al. It was otherwise vacant. Ed raised an eyebrow, then turned to the class.

"My name is Mr. Elric. I don't really care vhy it is any of you flunked zis class last year, but I assure you, any tomfoolery and I vill fail you. You vill have to take this class over yet _again_ , but zat iz not my problem. On zee right hand side of zee front row, vee have my baby brozer. He iz probably better teacher zan I am, to be honest, so treat him viz zee same respect you vould treat me." He turned to the blackboard. "On zee board I have written headings for two separate notes pages. I vould ask if any of you knew vhat zee first meant, but..."

Ed took a sweeping glance around the class, not expecting any raised hands. To his surprise there was one. The girl who was late, and sat front and center. He nodded at her, bangs falling into his eyes.

"The Law of Conservation states that energy and matter can neither be created nor destroyed," she said.

A girl in the second row took this as her cue to speak up. "Well, except when someone has a baby."

Edward looked at her in shock. Was she kidding? "Nein. I heard you'd somehow passed biology," he said. "Evidently, you should not have. During gestation, ze food ze mozer ingests gets converted into ze matter zat makes up ze resulting child."

"What? Babies aren't made of _food_ ," the girl said. Al turned pink.

"Yes they are," front-and-center-girl said, turning in her desk to face girl-who-needs-to-retake-biology. "We all are. The food we eat is converted both to energy _and_ into the matter that makes up our bodies. It's how we grow and function." She then went into the mechanics of it all, and Ed was sure at least half the class was red-faced. Samantha slid lower in her chair.

Ed's other eyebrow went up, and he continued the lesson. Front-and-center-girl, or Hermione Granger, he learned after taking roll, raised her hand at every question, though he only called on her about half the time.

Each class was about two hours long, for the sake of the shortened summer semester. In those two hours, he managed to get them passed the introductory phases and into the adjoining laboratory. They were just evaporating water from a salt water mixture, but even the hardest of the delinquents seemed excited by the work. Ed smirked. _Kids_ do _love labs._

"See, brother?" Al said. "They're not so bad!"

"Go help them, then," Ed said. "You take half, I'll take half."

Alphonse nodded, and weaved through the lab benches, calling out in broken English. Ed smiled, and did the same, striding to the closest bench on the right side of the room. It housed the bushy haired front row girl and girl-who-needs-to-retake-biology.

"Vat are your names again? My memory for zat sort of sing resulted in me calling way too many people by unflaterink nicknames."

With one eye still on her lab packet, Bushy said, "My name is Hermione Granger."

The other girl, who was bent over the first's notes, straitened, flipped a sheaf of wavy black hair over her shoulder. "Samantha," she said.

She then launched into a half question - half complaint tirade about how hard chemistry was and how her previous teacher had just been awful.

Granger, Elric noticed, snorted into her sleeve before saying, "I think I have decent enough grasp on the concept of compounds to help you through this, Samantha. Let the Professor help a group that needs it more."

"How do _you_ get it already?" Samantha said.

Granger gestured to the textbook she had open to the second chapter. "I read through my textbook before classes started, and have it here for reference, too."

"Vas? Vreally?" Ed said in vague disbelief. He wondered why this girl had not simply done so the first time she'd taken Chemistry. "I've only read srough zee first fife chapters!"

Granger blinked at him. "Really?"

Ed nodded.

"I couldn't do that," she said. "But, I'm sure you know your Chemistry?"

Her voice had a questioning note that Ed did not appreciate. "Vell," he said, tersely, "Do you need any help? Or can I move on to a group zat needs it?"

Granger patted her lab packet. "I've got it covered Professor."

"It's Mr. Elric," he reminded her. She nodded, suddenly cross. Ed inclined his head toward the two, and walked away. Alphonse was off on the opposite side of the room, laughing wildly with students at a table of four. Really. If Al's health was any better, Ed would have had _him_ be the teacher. Al was clearly better at it.

But the day went on, and Ed felt that he was getting somewhat better at answering their questions. He tried not to curse at occasional inanity. He'd told Jenkins he was nineteen, but really, these kids were a full year older than him. Logically, he knew that he and Al had considerably more life experience, so he really had to stop judging them so harshly.

As class ended, Ed examined each of his students closely. None of them were bad kids, he decided, even if they _had_ flunked high school Chemistry.

With that in mind, he had a much easier time, trying to teach second period.

* * *

 **Word Count:** 1686

Thank you for reading! Proceed to tear it into those shreds that help my writing improve.

By that I mean review. Please.

And now that the chapter is over I will confirm. I had to explain how babies are made to an entire class of high school sophomores who had indeed somehow passed biology. It actually killed my soul.

In other news, my birthday is tomorrow. Nineteen years old and still writing fanfiction, even despite writing my own original fiction too. Here's to hoping my fanfiction career lasts a while yet.


	3. Confrontation, Three Ways

**Author's Note:** And here's chapter three guys! I hope you like it!

 **Disclaimer** : WolfishMoon does not own either Hiromu Arikawa's _Fullmetal Alchemist_ or J.K. Rowling's _Harry Potter._ She never claims the contrary and makes no money off of the online publication of this free-to-read fanwork.

* * *

The Scientist's Lament

Chapter Three

Confrontation, Three Ways

* * *

Following that first day, Granger arrived a good fifteen minuets early. Edward snorted and generally ignored her as he graded the previous day's lab work. The labs reflected a general laziness and a certain ammount of inaccuracy. Generally. Granger somehow managed to write out her reports with a certain elegance that Ed had not seen since Hawkeye's millitary paperwork.

He hadn't been expecting even a single perfect lab. He shook it off, but then as days went on he began to seriously wonder what the hell she was doing in a summer class. The Ed of old would've asked her straight out, but he'd gotten better at subtlety. Or, Al had gotten more assertive, anyway. After two weeks of Alphonse's restraint, the two went to the principal first.

"Vhat gives?" Ed asked Jenkins. "Vhy do I have actually intelligent student in my class?"

"Bruder!"

"Now Mr. Elric," she said. "Every student has special strengths and weakne-"

"Oh cut ze shit. You know vhat I mean." Ed glared at the two of them and crossed his arms.

"Vat mein bruder _means_ to say," Alphonse began, "Iz zat ze girl in qvestion - aces? - _aces_ all ov her assignments. Ve cannot believe zat she vailed ze class vonce alvready."

Jenkins sighed and looked from one brother to the other. After a brief moment, she sighed again. "I'll look up the her transcript. What's her name?"

"Hermione Granger," Edward said, and Jenkins nodded, typing into the computer that sat at her desk. Edward was still amazed at the thing. _Imagine if Winry saw one of those!_ His chest tightened painfully at the thought. Jenkins glanced at the file.

"Oh, _that_ 's who you're talking about," she said, peering over her lavender rimmed glasses. "She doesn't actually go here during the regular school year. She's asked to just take the bare minimum classes she can to graduate and take them in the summer."

"Vas? Really? Vhy?" Ed leaned forward on the desk, ignoring Alphonse's grip on his sleeve.

Jenkins shook her head. "I've no idea. I get the feeling that she takes some sort of specialized classes during the usual school months that neglect the more usual academic pursuits."

"Every student I know of who's done zat eizer finished high school first, or else swapped it, pursuing separate studies in zee summer," Ed said, rubbing at the automail port on his left thigh.

Jenkins shrugged. "I don't know her personally," she said. "So I don't know anything beyond that. Apparently she did the same thing in junior high."

"So iz she taking her classes zee summer after she should have alvready, or iz she taking zem zee summer before?" he asked, forcing himself to stop rubbing at the port. Jenkins was already suspicious, he knew, and this world was far, _far,_ behind in prosthetic science. Of course they were far ahead in almost every other pursuit, so Ed didn't really understand the hold up, but regardless. Someone sussing out his automail would be more than an inconvenience.

"The summer before, so she would be going into her Third form," Jenkins said, glancing at the transcript. "That much I can tell you."

"So she iz year younger zan zee ozers. Is all really veird. I vonder vhy." Jenkins nodded in response to that, and Ed took it as a dismissal. He stood and gave Al a hand at standing. Together, they surveyed the room. After a moment, Ed looked at Jenkins and finally asked what he'd wanted to since first entering the office. "Vhy zee hell iz your vallpaper lavender?"

Alphonse tilted his head apologetically beside him.

Jenkins laughed. "Apparently it puts people at ease," she said. "Everything else is too spartan for a school teacher." She gestured at her lavender glasses, "You can see I use the effect liberally."

Ed nodded. He could understand that, putting out a soft exterior so as to hide steel. He looked at the pant leg that hid his automail. Yes, he _definitely_ understood that. He settled on a simple "Understandable."

"Now you've got something out of me," Jenkins said, and Ed saw her mouth draw into a hard line. "What about you?"

"Zere is nothink about us," Ed said.

Jenkins shook her head. "There is," she said - and she said it in German. "I've never heard your dialect of German before - and I've traveled there extensively."

Panic clawed at Ed's throat, but he got himself together. "We're from some ass backwards little village you've never heard of," Ed said. "So our dialect is one you wouldn't necessarily be familiar with."

Jenkins's eyes narrowed behind her lavender glasses. "Feed your brother better," she said. "He's skin and bones."

Ed looked at her sideways.

"Don't blame my brother! I was sick," Al said, giving an admirable set of pitiable puppy eyes. "For a long time. I'm better now, but my body atrophied."

Jenkins nodded. "I care about my students," she said. "And while you may be faculty and faculty family, Ed is the youngest person on payroll."

Ed was full ready to launch into a NOT-SHORT-DAMNIT tirade, but was cut off by a heavy sigh from the principal's corner. "I won't pry too much," she said.

"We appreciate that," Al said. Ed put his atrophied right hand on Al's shoulder, nodded his agreement.

"Good luck with Miss Granger," Jenkins said switching back into English.

After a moment's pause, Ed decided to follow her lead. "Vee vill figure her out eventually," he said in English. "Zank you for zee info."

* * *

Hermione was in English when she she realized she'd left her Chemistry textbook in that classroom. And it was _Friday_ too. She'd absolutely need it for the weekend. "Oh for the love of-" she cut herself off before she could say 'Merlin,' glancing nervously at the muggles around her.

"What's wrong?" the girl next to her asked.

"Nothing, Jessica. I just left my Chemistry textbook at that class," she said. Jessica nodded.

"You can get it after this class. I'll go with you." For a girl who'd flunked Third form English, Jessica was very sweet.

"No thank you, I'll be okay," Hermione said, flushing deeply when her teacher told her to stop talking. She didn't like her English teacher all that much.

* * *

Though Al had put her textbook to the side, Ed had not actually thought Granger would come back for it. But she did.

"Hello, Hermione!" greeted Alphonse, as she stuck her nose around the door frame.

"Hello," she said. "I forgot my textbook."

"On zee counter," Alphonse said, "Vee had to get it out of zee vay."

"Right," she said. "Thank you."

As she put her textbook into her rucksack, Ed stood from his desk chair.

"Bruder," Alphonse said, warningly. Edward looked at him, sighed, and turned back to Granger.

"Equivalent Exchange. Mankind cannot obtain anyzing vizout first giving up somezing of equal value. You tell me vhy you only go to school in summer, I teach you somezing more complex zan basic Chemistry." He was reaching and he knew it, but his curiosity was through the roof. Granger looked up from her bag and her eyes widening, hand flying to her pocket. She seemed to catch herself, settled her hand on her hip and hardened her eyes in a way that Edward wasn't expecting.

He wondered what was in her pocket.

Alphonse admonished him in Amestrian. "Are you crazy, brother?" But Al's eyes trained themselves on Granger's pocket. Her stance had a wide - eyed innocent look that Hawkeye's had lacked, but she stood like the leutenant did when she was ready to draw.

Granger looked carefully at Ed's face before turning her attention to Alphonse and back again.

"The Law of Conservation," she said, shoudlers settling. "I'm afraid I cannot accept the deal."

Ed raised an eyebrow. "Vhy not? I can tell you for zee erudite you are. You vant knowledge."

She slung her bag over her shoulder and brushed her hair out of her eyes. The few centimeters she had on him seemed huge now. She was not quite battle hardened, Ed decided, but he found himself wondering what she'd seen despite himself. It was certainly not nothing.

Hermione was silent for another moment before she said, "It's not something I can tell."

Ed sighed, sat on the edge of his cluttered desk. "Zat, I do understand."

"Does that mean you'll teach me anyway?" she asked, slowly backing to the door. Her hand had inched down to her pocket, but she still maintained a faux casual stance. But it was the sort of stance she could draw from quickly.

Edward snorted, surprised at both the child's spine, and her stance. "Nein."

"Equivalent exchange, I guess," Hermione said, smiling. She straightened her shoulders and exited the classroom. "Have a good day, Professor," she called over one shoulder. "Alphonse." It was still at rather sorry attempt at being casual.

Ed had no idea why she called him 'professor,' but he suspected it had to do with all of the other oddness that surrounded her. He lifted his hand in acknowledgement and picked up his own bag.

What the hell was the girl _into_?

"Brother," Al said in Amestrian. "Stay out of it."

"But I want to know!" he said.

"You're like a dog with a bone," Al said. "But I'll admit I want to know too."

* * *

Hermione struggled to keep herself from running. She _knew_ that only going to school in the summer was suspicious, but her teachers had never confronted her about it so blatantly before. She walked out of the high school as quickly as she could. Her mother caught her shoulder.

"What's wrong?" she asked. Hermione looked over her shoulder to see the Elrics walking out of the school, smiling and joking with each other. At the sight of her, they looked up, eyes going warily to her mother. Hermione gave them a tentative wave.

"Later," she said.

"It's one of those blond boys, isn't it?" her mother smirked at her, as though Hermione had a silly little crush. Hermione gave Jean an incredulous stare, but realized that she was just trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"Man and boy, actually," Hermione said. "My chemistry teacher and his brother. They're asking questions about my unusual enrollment."

Hermione's mother looked at her with bright hazel eyes. "You're worried."

Hermione nodded. "They're both mad smart," she said. "And it would be disastrous if they found me out. And not _just_ for me."

Jean didn't respond to that. _She probably doesn't even know what to say_ , the teenaged witch thought.

When she got home, Hermione packed up her robes, casual, formal, and uniform, bringing along only two sets of muggle clothing. It was time to leave for the Burrow. A month with her parents was wonderful, but the day was here and it was time for her to go back to the relative safety of Order and Weasley protection.

Ed cursed. Clearly, he'd been a little too bold in that whole manoeuver, he thought as he rubbed at his atrophied wrist. He had a feeling that Granger would not let anything slip now that she'd been warned.

"You have to lay off, brother."

She'd also clearly alerted a parent, and if the girl was into something dangerous, but still got picked up by a parent, then the odds are the parents were involved too.

He shared this with Alphonse, who sighed and said, "You need to stop obsessing, brother."

"Come on, Al!"

Alphonse sighed. "Fine," he said, before sharing his own speculations. "I don't think her parents are involved."

"What?"

"You saw the way Hermione reached for that weapon in her pocket," he said. "She was as ready to draw as Hawkeye on a bad day."

"So? What does that have to do with her parents?" Ed asked, fiddling with the end of his braid.

Alphonse readjusted his shoulder bag. "Her mother wasn't like that at all. In fact, though she seemed nervous towards the end of what we saw, she didn't channel that nervousness in the same way a soldier would - the same way Hermione did."

Ed was forced to concede the point.

* * *

 **Word Count:** 2032

Now to that special part of the day where you critique my writing. Please be honest and forthcoming. I want to improve, and criticism helps tremendously.

Happy Thanksgiving to my US readers!


	4. Introductions of a Social Sort

**Author's Note:** I'd forgotten that Tonks is basically a guilt ridden potato at the beginning of book six so I had to go in a rewrite all of her dialogue and description. But I didn't want to use another order member. My justification is thus: Lupin and Tonks are being given kind of easy tasks to give them time to heal from the loss of Sirius, but they are still being given _tasks_ so they do not fall out of practice.

I hope you enjoy the chapter and give me due criticism in reviews!

 **Disclaimer:** WolfishMoon does not own J.K. Rowling's _Harry Potter_ nor Hiromu Arikawa's _Fullmetal Alchemist_. She never claims the contrary and makes no money from the online publication of this free-to-read fanwork.

* * *

The Scientist's Lament

Chapter Four

An Introduction of the Social Sort

* * *

 _Due to the acidity of..._

It was Sunday night and Hermione was writing out a lab conclusion when Ginny hurdled up the stairs to their shared room. "The Death Eaters finally made good on their threat about the muggle killing."

Hermione's eyes flew wide. "What?" She pressed her quill too firmly against the notebook paper and the mark swelled to an ugly blotch. The point tore through the paper.

Next time she'd use parchment for her lab report too and damn the consequences.

"The Brockdale Bridge collapsed." Ginny said. Hermione relaxed. Her parents lived and worked on the opposite side of London.

"Ron's downstairs with Fleur trying to get more info out of Dad."

Hermione ignored the squelching of jealousy that welled in her throat. "Right."

Hermione unfolded her legs and got up from the floor. "Let's go down to the kitchen. I'll finish my homework there."

The tension in the kitchen was thick and heavy when they walked in. Even Fleur had an uncharacteristically serious look on her face. Hermione grimaced. "How many dead?"

Arthur looked at her, and though the room had all the hallmarks of an argument, he didn't try to avoid answering. "Two hundred and fifty dead," he said, pushing his thin rectangular glasses up his nose.

Hermione nodded, felt in her pocket for her wand. She would call her parents from a payphone by the school - just to be sure. "I'm going to finish my Chemistry homework in here, if you don't mind."

Arthur lit up. "You don't mind if I look over your shoulder, do you?"

And that was precisely why she'd wanted to do it in the privacy of Ginny's room. She sighed and took a seat at the scrubbed table. "Go ahead. Once I'm done with it, I can try to explain some to you, too."

Arthur nodded and pulled a chair up next to hers at the table, eagerly bending to look at her papers. By the time she was done explaining pH, she was tired enough to fall into a dark and almost dreamless sleep.

The next morning Hermione was escorted to the muggle school by Mr. Weasley. "It's quite alright, Hermione," he said. "You have to be at that school just before I need to be at the office, so it just makes sense. I'll have another order member - probably Remus - pick you up in the afternoon."

It took a little wheedling to get him to leave fifteen minuets early so that she could use a phone. But it was worth it when her father's voice came through the payphone.

"I heard about the Brockdale Bridge," Hermione said to her father almost before they could exchange pleasantries.

"Terrible business," he said.

"You weren't anywhere near there, where you?" Hermione asked.

"What?" Dr. Granger said, "Of course not. Office isn't anywhere near there."

But there was a high pitch to his voice that Hermione found instantly suspect. "You _were!"_

"Well," John sounded sheepish. "There's that jewelry shop on that street, and your mum's birthday's coming up. But I had just left the area when the bridge went down - was headed back to the office."

Hermione felt the sudden urge to vomit as she realized that her parents might not be spared in a wizard war.

"Oh," she said. "I'm sure Mum'll like whatever it is you bought."

"Thanks, Mione," John said. "It's her favorite color and everything."

The conversation did not last much beyond that, but at least Hermione knew they were alive.

* * *

Alphonse was out interviewing for jobs bright and early on Monday morning and Ed felt oddly exposed without him. Without his brother's restraint, Ed's nosy curiosity had even more free reign than it normally did and Hermione, Ed noticed, was _especially_ on edge that morning.

Her right hand kept going to her pocket. Her shoulders were hunched, eyes shadowed and darting. This couldn't have just been him. She made her way from the door to his desk.

"Professor," she said, hand going once again to her skirt pocket. "I couldn't type up the lab report."

He looked up from the book he was reading. "Nein? Do you haff it written?"

"Yes," she said. "I just couldn't get to the library."

"You don't haff computer?" Most of his students didn't, of course, but Hermione, he'd noticed, always brought in her assignments typed.

"No. I'm a little short on any technology, at the moment," she said. She would not let her right hand far from her hip, so she left-handedly pulled her lab out of her book bag and handed it to him. She looked even more ready to draw a weapon than she'd had the previous Friday.

The report wasn't even stapled. She'd poked a hole in the corner and tied it with ribbon. It was on normal paper, but the scratchy, pointed writing was clear.

"You wrote vith a - oh vhat's zee vord? - a dip pen?" he said, looking up to meet her eyes. She nodded, slinging her bag back over her shoulder.

"Does it matter?" she asked. "Anyway, it's almost time for class to start."

She was right, damn her. He slid off his perch on the desk, placing the lab in the inbox. It was already half full with the papers put in by the entering students.

The bell rang. "Alright," he said. "Today, vee vill be continuing our discussion on Avogadro's number and zee reason vee use it."

Ed watched her closely, but Granger hardly participated, opting instead to ward off an apparent headache - she pinched the bridge of her nose, her fingers gently moving to rub at her eye sockets. Something had happened. Not so catastrophic to her psyche as the loss of Nina or Hughes, but something had happened.

He walked to her desk when the students began to file out. "Granger," he said. She turned her head away from the backpack she was zipping, bushy hair falling to one side of her back.

"What?"

"Come talk to me after school," he said.

"Why?" she asked, eyes bright and defiant. "I have things to do later that rather outrank this in importance."

"Vell. I could try to get zee voman who picked you up on Friday arrested for neglectful parenting, but I don't zink you much vant zat."

"Good luck with that," she said with a sharp, cold laugh.

"So you're off ze grid?"

She looked down at him sharply. "That is quite enough, Mr. Elric." Her voice was hard enough to cut steel. "Besides, if I was completely off the grid, how on Earth would I be enrolled in school?"

"Fake dokumentation is not so diffikult to obtain," he said.

She recoiled, lips thinning to a hard line, and it hit him that he may have given away something he didn't quite want to. Her hand was in her pocket again. "And how would you know that?"

"Vell, vee both have somesink to hold over each ozzer."

"Right," she said slowly, eyes narrowing. "Don't push me professor."

* * *

Paying attention in English and French was a lost cause and Geometry was little better. Hermione walked though school in a daze. Getting Harry out of Number Four was annoyingly difficult to orchestrate, or at least the Order refused to do anything too risky. It would be days before they could move, but Hermione was desperate. And now Elric was getting out of hand.

She leaped from her seat when the bell rang, hastily stuffing her geometry notebook into her backpack. Professor Lupin would likely bring Tonks with him, to try and cheer her up, she knew.

They stood just outside of the main entrance, Professor Lupin nervous and taught, Tonks pale and drawn. Lupin noticed something was wrong immediately, and promptly questioned her on it.

"I've a professor looking into me," Hermione said. "He's too damn curious for his own good."

"Are you sure he's a muggle?" Lupin asked, rubbing at watery yellow eyes.

"Definitely," Hermione said. "Have you ever heard of a wizard who taught muggle Chemistry?"

He shook his head. "Tell me about him."

"Well," Hermione began, "He's from Germany, I think - "

Professor Lupin cut her off, said, "That might do it. We don't know how segregated the magical and non-magical communities _are_ over on the continent."

"The Statute of Secrecy is international," Hermione said.

"Yes," Lupin said, "But the continent seems to have a looser definition. At the very least, there's more mixing between muggles and wizards. You'll find a potions shop hidden in the basement of a pharmacy, over there. So a Continental wizard might not be so ignorant of muggle things."

Professor Lupin was clearly born to be a teacher, Hermione realized. The simple act of explaining something that Hermione might not know brought a light to his eyes and an animation to his body that Hermione had not expected to see so soon after the death of his best remaining friend.

She only wished that the sudden, simple, joy would rub off on Tonks.

Hermione smiled slightly, said, "You raise a good point. But there are other things that make me fairly certain he isn't."

"Like what?" This was from Tonks, the first words she'd said. Maybe it was rubbing off on her.

"For one, he treats the Conservation Laws like a religious doctrine. Magic contradicts them at every turn. Even the most scientifically literate wizards wouldn't take Conservation all that seriously."

Both Lupin and Tonks had affected a sort of glaze over their eyes. Hermione sighed. "Basically, he practically worships muggle science. And the idea that matter and energy cannot be created from nothing. Which most spellwork completely contradicts."

"Oh," Lupin said. "Thank you for translating, Hermione."

She pursed her lips together. "Of course, Professor."

Tonks swapped her weight from foot to foot, considering. "Should we meet him?"

"Statute of Secrecy," Hermione said.

"Right." Tonks's short brown hair grew longer as she seemed to wilt in on herself - long hair did not suit the shape of her face making her look wan and sickly.

* * *

Ed, meanwhile, was hiding in the bushes. Two people picked up the Granger girl today, and neither was the woman from Friday. He couldn't hear them, but the fast glances back at the school made it clear they were speaking about him. After a moment, the haze of pretended understanding crossed their faces. Hermione, ever the erudite, was confusing them somehow.

The woman's shoulders slumped and her hair slumped too. Ed leaped out of the bushes.

"Envy!" he said, transmuting the ground to swallow the 'woman' up, leaving head and shoulders out. "How the _hell_ are you here?" He'd slipped into Amestrian.

Hermione and the shabby man had pulled out the weapons in their pockets. They were not the guns or knives that Edward had been expecting. Instead their hands clutched ornately carved sticks leveled at his head like a gun. As tense as Granger was, her hand did not waver. _Sticks?_

He turned away from them. Envy feigned fear and confusion better than Ed would have expected. "Oh give it up, Envy."

Envy's expression faded from fear to confusion to slight realization and awe.

"Let her go, professor," Hermione said. "I will not hesitate."

The shabby man sent Granger a quelling look and turned to Ed, said, "You've attacked an auror, and while Hermione is underage I am not."

"Stop." Envy said, biting his lip, looking at the rock encasing him. "This is really an impressive bit of magic, kid. How did you do it? What spell'd you use?"

" _Tonks!_ " Hermione and Shabby said together. Ed studied the shape shifter. The eyes were big, sad and exhausted. Wrong. All wrong.

He slapped his palms together, and brought them to the stone. The blue light he loved so much carried the rock back to its proper place. Shabby and Granger's sticks began to lower. Their arms were stiffly pointed at the ground to Edward's right, clearly ready to spring back up at any moment. Ed registered this all with a fragment of his brain. Mostly he saw the woman who seemed to share Envy's power.

"You are not him," Ed said, switching back to English with difficulty, the language leaden on his tongue.

"You've met a metamorphmagus before," she said, touching her hair. She screwed up her face and the length came up an inch or two. It clearly took effort on the shape shifter's part.

"A vat? I've met somevone who changed his appearance at vill, zat's true."

"Maybe the word doesn't translate? I dunno how to say it in German. Anyway, I'm Tonks. You must be the professor."

"Edward Elric," Ed said, wondering how the woman was so calm.

"Wotcher," she said.

"Vat?"

Hermione was looking between them, and she deigned not to let Tonks respond. "Why didn't you tell me you were a wizard?"

"Vhaz?" he said again, wanting desperately to switch into Amestrian. "Vhat do you mean, _vizard_?"

"A _wizard_ , you know, person who performs magic. Like Professor Lupin - " she gestured to Shabby " - like Tonks and I!"

Now that statement just simply refused to compute. "Magik doezn't exizt. Here I sought you vere of scientist stock."

"But you just did some." Granger said, her eyes were turning hard again, her arm was starting to raise. This Shabby Lupin character eyed her carefully.

"It vaz applied science," he said. "Nozink more zan science."

Shabby tilted his head. "I don't know as much about muggles as Hermione, but I have to admit that looked like magic to me."

Ed was incredulous. "I am physicist. And chemist. Perhaps it vould be described more on ze quantum scale. But zee science of decomposing zee molecules and atoms in an object and reforming zem into zee shape or item you want is not magik. No hocus pocus involvt."

Shapeshifter's eyes widened, hair growing longer again as she slumped in on herself. "Bugger," she said. "This is all my fault. Again."

* * *

 **Word Count:** 2332

So you see why I was in something of a lurch, because Ed would not have acted against them without having something of a PTSD attack upon seeing someone with the same power as Envy. Obviously, Ed logically knows that Envy is effectively dead as per Brotherhood cannon, but stress combined with flashbacks and probably a fair few nightmares do terrible things to people.

Anyway, tell me what you thought in your reviews!


	5. Water to Whiskey

**Author's Note:** Well. There was a delay. Finals hit hard for this poor freshman! But my last final is on Wednesday and then it's the Greyhound home for WolfishMoon. Updates will be more frequent for the next few months.

 **Disclaimer** : WolfishMoon does not own Hiromu Arikawa's _Fullmetal Alchemist_ or J.K. Rowling's _Harry Potter_. She never claims the contrary and makes no money off of the online publication of this free-to-read fanwork.

* * *

The Scientist's Lament

Chapter Five

Water to Whiskey

* * *

Alphonse wasn't expecting to find his brother in a hostile situation when he went to the school to pick him up. But there it was. Miss Hermione and a shabby man had sticks pointed stiffly to the ground as though they were handling guns. Ed looked ready to slap his hands together and the center of it all stood a woman with hair the color of a softly glowing light bulb seemed the center of it.

Al knew better than to run at them, he decided. So, with hands held at his sides in a clearly non-combative posture, he walked over to them. He was not quite recovered, he knew. His muscles _might_ be able to withstand a fight, but Al wouldn't bet on it. And his fighting style was still the suicidal form of a being that could not bleed or tire or die.

"Brozer!" he called out, giving them fair warning that someone else was walking into the fray. Both Miss Hermione and the man jumped a foot in the air, shoving their sticks into their pockets. The golden haired woman froze mid-hair shake. And unless Alphonse was very much mistaken, the ends of that light-bulb hair was going subtly pink. "Vas going on?" he asked, nose crinkling at the effort of English. The Truth may have crammed the knowledge of all alchemy into his head, but it had not crammed all of the world's languages.

"Alphonse," Ed said. "I sink some introductions are in order."

Miss Hermione looked from Ed to Al and back again with a deep suspicion. "We can't trust you," she said.

And for the first time since Ed had started this teaching madness, he looked at someone as though they were his own age. "I vouldn't expect you to."

Al approached the group, hands still stiffly visible. "Vee know a sing or two about zat."

The man in the group looked exasperated above all things. He was clearly as paranoid as Miss Hermione, but there was something about him that spoke to Al of experience. And it was clear that he was used to taking point.

It was the shabby man who managed to diffuse the situation. "Why don't we take this to a tea shop, or something."

"That sounds good," the woman said. "Hermione, do you know any good muggle spots around here?"

Miss Hermione nodded, hackles finally beginning to lower. "I do."

"Let's move this there, shall we?" the man said. He then turned very pointedly to Ed, clearly unwilling to look away. "Lead the way, Hermione!"

They began to walk to wherever it was she had in mind - Al hoped that it wasn't the tea shop he'd just interviewed for a job with. This would not look good to a potential employer.

The man was clearly bent on continuing to diffuse the tension and talked with an easy, pleasant smile as they walked, "My name is Remus Lupin," he said. The smile was clearly forced, but it was soothing all the same. "I was a teacher once too, so I suspect we might have things in common."

"Mein bruder is still quite new at teachink," Al said, voice high and nervous but with a smile as pleasant as Mr. Lupin's on his face. "You might be able to give him some goot pointers."

"I am goot 'nough at it for sees delinquents," Ed said. "I don't need any _pointers_ ," he spit the last word, but Al could tell that his brother was venturing toward the good natured side of him. Wary and caustic, always, but friendly.

Miss Hermione sent Ed a withering look. "They're not that bad," she said.

"Yes. Yes zey are," Ed said. Mr. Lupin laughed.

Al slowed his pace to match the woman. "What's your name?" he asked.

She smiled - grimaced, really - at him. Her hair, he noticed had slipped into a mousy brown. "I'm Tonks and never you mind the first bit. You?"

"I'm Alphonse, Ms. Tonks," Al said.

Ms. Tonks blinked. "I'm having trouble believing you two are related."

Al smiled. "Vee do get zat alot, but ve're more alike zen people give us credit for."

"Right," Tonks said, gesturing ahead at Ed who was spazzing over something Mr. Lupin said.

"He has trouble vis authority."

Ms. Tonks was clearly preoccupied and proved it when she turned to Al and said, "How much did you see?"

Al shook his head. "Not much, Ms. Tonks." It was true, but... "Mein bruder vill tell me vat happened, if you are sinking zat I vill not know if I did not see."

Ms. Tonks blinked, laughed. "I think I knew that," she said. "Anyway, drop the Ms. It's just Tonks."

Al smiled at her. "I'm very used to - vats vord? - assuaging zee ausority my brozer pisses off. It might be hard habit to break. Vill try, sough."

Here, Tonks's laugh was real, and Al grinned.

* * *

As they settled in Hermione's before-school regular, the ball of dread in her stomach was not getting lighter. She looked to Professor Elric, analyzing his expression. It was tense, and Elric the younger was hardly better. Al was more open, with traces of a genuine smile lingering, but it was almost as tense as his brother.

"Vat happent?" Alphonse asked.

Everyone began to talk at once. Hermione was attempting to make her voice heard over the din and failed.

"Stop," Alphonse said. "Vone at a time. Ms. Tonks first."

Professor Elric looked surprised at Alphonse's sudden assertiveness, and Hermione privately agreed. Even in class, Alphonse wrangled respect and quiet obedience simply through his kind and patient nature.

 _But he may not be as kind or patient as all that_ , Hermione reminded herself. Something was clearly happening. And the Elrics held themselves was reminiscent of Professor Moody.

"It's just Tonks, remember?" Tonks said, brushing now-brown hair over her shoulder. She really _was_ having problems morphing, Hermione realized. Tonks continued. "And fine. Your brother is clearly traumatized, and at the sight of one of my abilities, he panicked."

Professor Lupin sighed. "He basically attacked her."

"With a form of magic none of us have seen before," Hermione added.

"Bruder!" Al said. Following it up with a string of fast-paced German that Hermione had no prayer of following.

Professor Elric replied in indignant tones. Alphonse's eyes went wide and flew to Tonks guarded and slightly fearful.

Tonks seemed to understand immediately. She gave a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't know he was watching and I didn't know that he would react that way."

"Please understand," Alphonse said. "Zee shapeshifter vee knew vas very, very bad man. And vee did not know zat it vas power here zat people could haf. So my brozer assumed zat you vere him and zat he'd somehow survived and found us."

 _Oh_. Hermione found that she could understand that. Her English teacher was a man with long, ice blonde hair and every time she looked at him she saw Malfoy at the Department of Mysteries.

"I guessed as much," Tonks said. "Moody gets like that sometimes."

Professor Lupin looked up sharply at that. And Hermione thought she knew why. This boy carried himself with roughly the same demeanor as Professor Moody. And he was fifteen.

"You have clearly told your brother of Tonks's power," Professor Lupin said. "And that leaves us with a conflict of interest. Ordinarily, we would take ministry precautions and erase your memories on the spot. But given Edward's display and your prior experiences with metamorphmagi, I think you're wizards."

Alphonse's eyes went wide. "Vizards? Brozer said nozing about vizards."

And then there was that fast paced German from Professor Elric again that Hermione could not keep up with try as she might. German was not a language she had studied. But Alphonse's slightly browner eyes were widening enough that Hermione could guess.

And with that, she made a decision - at roughly the same time Tonks did. Two wands were slammed on the table and Lupin looked about to puke.

"Wizards," Hermione said. "Well. Tonks and I are witches, really. But it's the same thing."

Tonks picked her wand back up and turned her glass of water to a glass of firewhiskey. The metamorphmagus downed it before screwing up her face. Her hair _might_ have gone to a lighter shade of brown.

Alphonse looked to the elder Elric. "Zere vas no equivalence," Alphonse said.

"You don't hav zee stone, do you?" Professor Elric asked.

Tonks tilted her head. "What stone? It's just basic transfiguration."

" _Wingardium Leviosa,"_ came from Professor Lupin's corner and Tonk's glass rose.

A resigned look came over Professor Elric's face. "Not even zee stone coult do zat."

"And ven you eliminate zee possible," Alphonse quoted.

"Vizards," Edward said. "Alvayz knew zee Truss vas bastard, right bruder?"

"Bruder! I sought I hid zee English svear book from you!"

Hermione looked to Professor Lupin. "How do we handle, this?" she asked.

"We ask Mad Eye," he said. "Because hell if I know."

When they stood up to leave, Hermione went to Tonks and asked the same question. Tonks gave her a devious smirk, said, "Already on it. Sent Mad Eye a patronus an hour ago, and he says we check them for magic."

Hermione nodded, steeling herself.

She knew she was in for it when Tonks and Professor Lupin fired twin stunners while passing the first alley they saw.

The Chemistry teacher and his brother dropped like a stone, and while Professor Elric was considerably heavier to carry than he should have been, Alphonse was considerably lighter.

* * *

 **Word Count** : 1593

 **Author's Note** : I hope you liked this chapter! Tell me what you think. It is physically painful for me to describe Tonks as depressed as she is in book six - she's just so vibrant in my mind's eye. Thank you everyone for the reviews. I should be PMing you in the next few days - probably on the bus ride from the East Coast to the Midwest. Because something needs to happen those thirty hours.

Also, Anna! I wish you weren't an anonymous commenter! Your reviews are always constructive, thoughtful, and USEFUL. I'd love to discuss them with you!

 **Public Service Announcement** : Ed's accent is here for the long haul. I feel that it is at least one complication in a set of events going way too smoothly given the circumstances. It may get lighter. It may disappear _almost_ entirely. But it is here to stay. Same for Al's accent. If anyone, Al's accent will be the one to go away entirely, but for now it is thicker than Ed's.


	6. Wizardry

**Author's Note:** I'm on break guys. Let the writing frenzy begin. Hope you like the chapter! Also, Happy Holidays, everybody!

 **Disclaimer:** WolfishMoon does not own Hiromu Arikawa's _Fullmetal Alchemist_. She also does not own J.K. Rowling's _Harry Potter_. She never claims the contrary and makes no money from the online publication of this free-to-read fanwork.

* * *

The Scientist's Lament

Chapter Six

Wizardry

* * *

Edward woke blearily to the sight of red hair and a voice speaking in a language that he could not quite place. It was the voice of one clearly used to being obeyed. "What did you do, Tonks? Remus? Are you insane?"

"We didn't know what to do!" Shabby's voice came from behind him and Ed remembered his English. Shabby continued, "Tonks had an idea and we went for it."

"They're just boys! Muggle boys!" This from the mass of red hair. Said mass of red hair came into focus and Ed could now see a plump woman with red hair to her shoulders. And she was livid. "And the taller one is _unspeakably_ thin!"

"I'm not so sure they're muggles," said Tonks. "I've never heard of a muggle who can do what the older brother can do."

Ed fought to keep his breathing even as he listened, not quite willing to give up his position yet. Granger's voice sounded from the other end of the room. "Here it is!" she said, "I've got the spell."

"Thanks, Hermione," Tonks said. "I know Mad Eye went over it with me at some point but I could not for the life of me remember!"

Ed heard the distinct sound of a book changing hands. Tonks took a breath in preparation to speak and it was here that Ed rolled off of the kitchen table, and squatted beneath it. "Don't you dare, bastard!" he said in Amestrian.

"Aaand he wakes," this from Tonks.

"Mr. Elric? It's okay, we're not going to hurt you," said Red.

"Not goink to hurt me?" Ed asked, crouching low with one hand on the table leg to keep it steady - Alphonse was still atop it after all. "You haff already hurt me! Knockt me out somehow and brought me and my brozer to zis place!"

"Well," Tonks said, hair drooping longer around her heart shaped face. "When you put it like that..."

"We didn't have many other options," Lupin said. "We're supposed to erase the memories of muggles and we couldn't be sure if you were one, and if you were what we should do, given that you've clearly had experience with wizards before."

Ed's eyes widened. "You haff no right to erase people's memories!"

"It's policy," Tonks said. "Not much we can do about it but obey."

"Zat's crazy."

The entire group looked to the table, for it was not Ed who had spoken, but Al. He was sitting up, amber eyes angry and accusatory. "I've been avake for a vhile. Voke up before brozer, really."

"Vhy didn't you say somezing, Al?"

Al huffed. "Same reason as you, brozer."

Ed blinked. Al was perhaps becoming a little too much like him. He wasn't sure how Al managed to get through the troubles in Amestris unchanged and then start to emotionally morph now that they were in a rather less dire situation.

"Zis is besides zee point," Alphonse continued. "Brozer and I did not trust you, precisely, but vee had agreed for at least truce. And vee expekted it to be respekted. Now you zay you vant to erase our memories?"

"You heard Tonks," said Shabby. "We didn't have a choice and we _were_ going to test you for a magical core before we obliviated you."

"Zis _obliviate_ is zee mesod for zee erasure of memories?" Ed asked, looking directly at Shabby's yellowish eyes.

"Yes," it was Red who answered, arms folded under her breasts. "And while I think they're crazy for approaching you children at all, it would be the best option moving forward for your own safety if you turn out to indeed be muggles."

Ed looked at her. "I am scientist. My mind iz most important asset. I do not vant it tampered vith. Zat goes for Alphonse too. Vee haff studied chemistry und physics since vee vere four."

"It wouldn't hurt your memories of your ordinary life," Granger said. "Only remove and replace the magical ones."

"Even zat is unacceptable," Ed said, crossing his arms, left hand closing over his emaciated elbow. Who knows what he would loose? Given his unusual set of memories, it was impossible to know what would be gone.

"You said you vere goink to test us?" Al asked, extending his hands palm up. Imploring. Granger nodded. "Do it."

Ed looked at his brother sharply, but when Al nodded at the window, Ed understood the plan. If these _wizards_ tried anything they would alchemically blast themselves through the outer wall and out of the building.

Tonks gulped from the right and raised her wand, hand steady despite her obvious nervousness; her hair had turned into a sort of pea green.

The entire room held their breath as she said the words, firmly, clearly. Alphonse lit up like a light bulb, but Ed did not. And to hide a certain amount of horror, Ed could not stop from smirking.

* * *

Hermione stared as her teacher's younger brother shone. Beside her, Tonks let out a delighted laugh. "Never seen that one done before," Tonks said, eyes glittering. "Didn't reckon it'd be so pretty!"

She watched as Alphonse looked at his hands in a sort of wide eyed wonder. It was so beautiful, if fact, that it hardly registered with her that the elder Elric wasn't glowing. But he was smirking.

"Told you it vasn't magic," he said, looking at his hands with a sort of wry satisfaction. _That_ caught Hermione's attention, but he too was watching Al from the corner of his eye, she could tell.

"Your brother's a wizard and that's all you have to say, Professor?" She put her hands on her hips and stared him down.

"So he can do zis magik hocus pocus," Ed said, eyes blazing with certainty. "It vould be like a certain bastard vee know. But mien bruder and I are men ov science. It doesn't change anyzink."

"Are you so sure about that?" Hermione asked, jerking her head towards the younger brother. Alphonse was still looking at his hands in wonder. His hands raised to eye level, his long sleeves rode up his wrist. Hermione saw skin resting just atop bone and she blinked. She'd not noticed the level of atrophy and it was almost terrifying to see.

Alphonse started when he seemed to notice her watching and brought his hands to his sides, tugging the sleeves back in place - but it was too late. She could see it now, the protruding tendons in his neck, the sallowness in his face - particularly beneath protruding cheekbones

Al visibly squared his shoulders. "I am scientist," he said, but Hermione was almost certain that he was reassuring _himself_ , as well as asserting himself to the room. "My life has been based on zee principles ov equifalent exchange. I von't change now."

Mrs. Weasley bustled over to him, taking bony shoulders in her hands. "You must at least learn _some_ ," she said. "It'll go out of control on you if you don't."

"It's amazing it hasn't done so yet," said Professor Lupin. Tonks flicked her wand to dispel the spell; the glow faded.

"Out ov control _how_?" Alphonse asked, wringing his bony, bony hands.

"People have died," said Professor Lupin. Mrs. Weasley removed her hand's from Alphonse's shoulders and shot Lupin a glare, mouth suddenly pursed very thin.

Hermione decided to interject. Nervously tugging on a bushy lock of hair, she spoke up. "Disregarding all _that,_ magic is incredible to use. And a scientific eye makes it all _more_ fun. Not less."

Mrs. Weasley gave Hermione an approving look for that - Hermione felt certain that Mrs. Weasley did not appreciate Lupin's bluntness with one as young as Alphonse.

Professor Elric shook his head. "Don't veed us bullshit, Granger," he said. "Iv not learning iz life zreatening, zat iz vhat vee need to know." His next sentence was muttered and Hermione only caught snatches. But it ran something along the lines of damning the trust - or truth? - and of course the bastard would.

Professor Elric was the most vulgar professor Hermione ever had and it was starting to wear her nerves thin. But while a part of her brain was wondering about the mutters, the larger part of her understood his point.

"Understood, Professor. Sorry." But Elric was done with her. He had turned to Lupin, Tonks, and Mrs. Weasley.

"You say mein bruder could die vrom zis magic stuff."

The three of them nodded. "He could," Lupin said. "He would not be the first."

"Zen I schould learn," Al said quietly. "Avter everyzing vee did? I von't loose zis body now. Not vrom pride."

That had Hermione wondering. This man and boy walked like Mad-Eye for a reason. What had they been into? Al's sentence and the look on Ed's face were viable clues - she just needed to figure out in what direction to look.

" _Ja, naturlich._ " Professor Elric's face was drawn and serious in a way Hermione had not seen it.

Mrs. Weasley bustled between them, taking Alphonse by the hand - looking for all the world like a hen ruffling her feathers - and said, "Well then. We'll get you learning in no time. I'll contact Minerva. She'll know how we might best proceed."

"Tonks can -" Lupin looked at Tonks, froze, started again. " _I_ can send Professor McGonagall a patronus."

Tonks stared at the ground awkwardly. "I'm sorry," she said. Her hair drooped down to her collar bone and Hermione internally sighed. It was no use getting so sad that you couldn't work your magic right.

Hermione felt like kicking herself. She knew that wasn't fair.

"Right," Mrs. Weasley said, diffusing the tension. "I'll get dinner started. Alphonse? Why don't you sit in the kitchen with me? We can get some food in you immediately."

"Vas?" Al asked. "I can vait viz everyvone else!"

"No. No, you're much to thin. Off you go. Through there." And Mrs. Weasley bustled the helpless Al to the kitchen.

As Professor Lupin and Tonks went out the back door to cast the patronus, Hermione heard Lupin say, "I can help you get it back, you know. Took me a while too."

And unless she was very much mistaken, Hermione could see Tonks lean into him slightly before nodding.

And then there were two.

"And vhen can vee expekt to go home?" Professor Elric asked the otherwise empty air. He muttered something probably unpleasant in German.

Hermione looked at her chemistry teacher. "Would you go over the homework while we wait for dinner?" she asked. "I'm having trouble with he calculations for this chapter."

But that was a lost cause. For just as Hermione suggested it, a windblown Ron and Ginny came in, brooms slung over their shoulders.

"Who's this, Mione?" Ron's hands gripped his broomstick defensively and Hermione knew she was in for a long night. No one was quite ready for strangers, she knew. Dumbledore's Army least of all.

* * *

 **Word Count:** 1828

 **Author's Note:** Tonks continues to be a lump. And even writing cannon romance that I can't take out gives me a headache. Wolfy no like. Another PSA. Cannon pairings are my friend. Cannon pairings will probably stay. They will not be a large part of this story. But you can't do book six without giving them at least token mention - they're big part of the book.

Additionally, I would like to thank the FOURTEEN people who reviewed. That was crazy. Last chapter brought a huge jump in review count, favorites, follows, views, and visitors. I am stunned. We're at the 42 review mark and I have to say that I never thought that fanfiction would be the Ultimate Answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything. Thank you so much, guys.

Anyway, I know lots of you were looking forward to this confrontation. I hope you like how it played out. And it's not quite over. We have some ground to make before we get Ed back into the muggle classroom.


	7. In Which Ron and Ginny Are Themselves

**Author's Note:** Thank you all so much for your reviews. I really appreciated them all! Here's a long chapter for your reading pleasure. It just _wouldn't_ wrap itself up! Stuff I meant to cover this chapter will be covered next chapter because Ron and Ginny decided to make a scene. Damn the rascals. I hope you like it!

 **Disclaimer:** WolfishMoon does not own and never claims to own Hiromu Arikawa's _Fullmetao Alchemist_ or J.K. Rowling's _Harry Potter._ She makes no money from the online publication of this free-to-read fanwork.

* * *

The Scientist's Lament

Chapter 7

In Which Ron and Ginny (And Everyone Else) Are Themselves. To Everyone's Frustration.

* * *

Ed had seen some strange things in his life, but he had never once seen a teenager hold a broomstick like it was their greatest treasure. But these two ginger children, who looked enough like Red to be likely hers, were doing so.

"Who's this," said the boy, "Mione?"

Granger, who'd already been reaching for her school bag and homework brought her hand back to herself, huffed. "He's my chemistry professor, Ronald."

That clearly threw Boy Ginger for a loop.

In contrast, Girl Ginger whistled, setting her broom against the door frame. "Your _Muggle_ chemi-whatsit professor? I can stun the first auror who comes in the door, Hermione, but I don't know that I can get the second and third for you."

Ed was about to interject, but Granger beat him to it. "It's fine. His brother's a wizard we found out."

Boy Ginger still looked stumped. "This little kid's a prof?" he finally said.

"WHO'RE YOU CALLINK TOO SMALL VOR AMOEBA SNACK?" His fists were raised, one leg bent behind him to spring on this freakishly tall child, but...

From the kitchen came Al's voice, in Amestrian. "I don't think anybody _called_ you that, brother!"

As Al's voice brought Ed back to himself, he could see that all around him sticks were raised. Boy Ginger's broom clattered to the floor as he drew, but he was no slower than his apparent sister and Granger.

Their eyes were wide and frightened - but set with a certain determination. Whoever these wizards - he internally snorted at the word - were, they were regularly in a large amount of danger.

Ed returned to his normal resting stance, but added more quietly, "Verdammt. Am nineteen you vreakishly tall giant."

The three teenagers slowly pocketed sticks, expressions sheepish. Granger moved to hide her own embarrassment, Ed was sure. "Ron! You don't say that!"

"Bloody hell, Mione," Boy Ginger muttered. "Didn't think he'd react like _that_."

Al's voice called from the kitchen again. "Sorry vor brozer!"

"Beink healthy height - unlike you vreakish people - doesn't make me... zat vord."

"Of course not," Girl Ginger said. "You're perfectly normal."

"But really, Mione," came Boy Ginger," Why is he here?"

Granger heaved a sigh. "He saw Tonks accidentally metamorphose. Attacked her using some strange magic."

"Well then," Girl Ginger said. "So he's a wizard."

"But why would he hide it?" Boy Ginger said, then answered his own question. "Maybe he works for You-Know-Who! He could be using you to get at Harry, Mione!"

"Iz not magic," Ed said. "Just science. Granger saw vor self. I'm no vizard."

"He really is a muggle," Granger said. "Even Alphonse - his brother - who is a wizard had no idea magic existed till today, I don't think."

But then Granger tilted her head. "But you'd met another metamorphmagus, so you must've known!"

"Vasn't magic eizer. Diverent mesod, similar result. Vas _scientifically plausible_ , mesod, too."

Granger sent him a sidewise smirk-look that Ed refused to interpret. He wasn't being silly. This magic shit was _clearly_ ridiculous. He'd bet his watch the Truth designed this whole backwards dimension _just_ to spit in his eye. Or any scientist's eye, Ed decided. Either way. Bullshit.

"What do you _mean_ it wasn't magic?" Granger asked. "I made sure to familiarize myself with most branches of muggle science when I first decided on my current schooling arrangement, and I never once came across anything like you do."

"You have PhD?" Ed asked.

"Well," Granger said. "No, but -"

"Zen schut up. You don't know vhat you're talkink about."

Boy Ginger looked at him with such an expression of awe, Ed found himself wondering precisely how overbearing his pupil could be. She couldn't be too bad, because Girl Ginger had a light of angry defiance in her eye in counterpoint to her brother.

"I don't know much about the muggle school system," Girl Ginger said, "But I _do_ know that these PhD thingies are for people much older than you. I'd bet you don't have one either!"

"Vell zee joke ist on you, Girl Ginger! I'm vhat zey call genius! Ha!"

But she was right enough. He'd never even gone to high school, regardless of he fact that he had the sort of certification even good alchemists could only _dream_ about.

The bantering went on for another few minuets, the mood slowly lightening as the conversation continued. But the kitchen - and checking on Alphonse - called Ed's name sooner rather than later. He excused himself and as he walked away he heard Boy Ginger start asking questions.

"Is he always like this, Mione?" Boy Ginger asked.

"Sort of?" Granger responded before Ed tuned them out. He'd rounded the kitchen door and there was Alphonse - still a sight to overwhelm Ed's senses even after all these months.

But Ed suddenly wasn't quite sure that Al needed him there. Al's easy smile and careful politeness had won him another friend, and he and Red were happily engaged in conversation.

"Oh, brother!" Al said in Amestrian, "Mrs. Weasley is so nice! She's making stew!"

Where Al's intense seriousness of just minuets ago had gone, Ed was not sure.

At the audible switch in language, Mrs. Weasley turned around. "Hello! Edward, right?"

"Right," Ed said, pulling a polite smile. "Zat iz me."

"Alphonse has been telling me just the funniest stories!" She said, stirring the stew pot in front of her.

"Brozer has lots ov zose," Ed said, eyes warily following the Matron of the Red Hair as she bustled.

"He certainly does!" She turned to the pot, "I heard Ron and Ginny come in. I'll talk to them about their manners after dinner. Really, Ronald should know better by now."

"Iz fine," Ed said. Red put on a good show, but the nervousness that floated about the other wizards floated about her too.

"You're lucky Remus and Tonks found your brother, you know," she said. And her brown eyes were so round and sincere at Ed found himself sure that part of her was speaking in reference to whatever trouble was brewing.

Regardless, he was going to get whiplash if Red made any more leaps in conversation, Ed was sure. "I don't know about zat," he said. "All I know is zat vee vere fine bevore, and now my brozer iz in a razer dangerous situation. I don't like zat much at all."

"Well," Mrs. Weasley said. "His magic would have blown up on him without training. Not finding out wouldn't have avoided that problem." She made a fair point, Ed admitted to himself. But he _only_ was going to admit it to himself.

"I don't mean just zat," Ed said, a look of stubbornness coming into his face. "Your jumpy children make it fery obvious. Somezink bad iz happening viz you vizards. And I'd razer Al vasn't brought into it."

Mrs. Weasley blanched. Ed had hit his mark, he was sure. "I vant to know vat it iz, and I vant to know vhy no one's tryink zat memory hocus pocus on _me_. Alphonse may be vizard, but vee all know I am not."

" _Bruder_ ," Alphonse said. "Schtop it."

"Frau Veasley?"

But Mrs. Weasley had relaxed. Likely at the coming of something easier to explain. Whatever the danger was, it was bad. And it had touched even the children of this doting lion of an over protective mother.

"Immediate muggle family is an exception to the Statute of Secrecy. We wouldn't keep the truth from the brother of a wizard," Red said. "Hermione's parents are muggles, and of course they know she's a witch."

Ed nodded, slowly. That, he thought, might explain some things about his student. Al _had_ expressed the opinion that Granger's parents were not a part of whatever it was she was into.

"Oh," he said. Because the relief was beginning to hit him. Al's ability kept his mind safe. "Zat is gut to know. But zee ozer sing?"

Mrs. Weasley blanched all over again. "Professor McGonagall is on her way, Edward. She'll explain it better than I can."

"Can she? Bekause in my experience, people like to call in zose zat are better at schtone valling me. Zee second person never gives me zee answers I vant."

But the Matron of the Red Hair was not going to budge an inch, the horror in her face had turned to a mulish stubbornness to mirror Ed's. And in the set of her mouth, Ed knew that this woman was used to being argued with - but she always won in the end.

"Dinner's almost finished," Red said in a tone that ended conversations as she turned away from him. "If you would call in the children to help set the table I'd be thankful."

Ed nodded. "Vine. I vill ask my questions to zis McGonagall person. But iv I'm not satisfied, know zat I vill push until I know vat I need to know."

But Red was back to stirring the pot on her stove. She gave a sort of hum to indicate that she had heard, but the conversation was over and nothing Ed did would rejuvenate it.

Al apologized for him, and pushed Ed out of the room.

Outside, Ginger Boy, Ginger Girl, and Granger were in some sort of argument.

"He could be dangerous, Mione!"

"I think Hermione's a better judge of character than you, Ron!"

"Bugger off, Ginny!"

"You say that like it's none of my business!"

"It _is_ none of your business!"

Ed exchanged an amused glance with Granger before stepping between them, cutting off Girl Ginger's next riposte. The banter had made another turn for the legitimately angry, he could see.

"Your mozer asked me to tell you zat dinner iz ready and zat she vants you to set zee table."

"Well, that's settled," Granger said, shooting Ed a grateful look, putting a hand on both Ginger Siblings' shoulders. "Let's go set the table."

Ed watched them hustle into the kitchen, eyes lingering on the back Ginger Boy's head. He had clearly inherited the mulish stubbornness of his mother, but he was one of his most violent questioners. Clearly uneasy around strangers, Ed decided. Which indicated not only exposure to danger, but the sort of paranoia that would likely keep the boy alive though whatever trouble was brewing.

 _Damn, I sound old,_ Ed thought. _He's_ my _age._ But pretending to be nineteen and working as a teacher was doing nothing for removing his tendency towards associating with adults.

Just as the children rounded the corner and vanished completely from sight, Scruffy and Sad walked in. Both looked vaguely cross, and neither seemed to register that Ed was standing right there. "At least I managed the spell," Sad said. "Any patronus is an improvement over no patronus."

Scruffy shook his head, eyes closing. "I'm glad I'm the one who sent the message."

Sad just rolled her eyes and quickened her pace to put herself ahead of him. "Molly!" she said. "Professor McGonagall will be over for dinner!"

A plate dropped in the kitchen and Red could be heard berating Boy Ginger. Loudly.

This was the one Red wanted Ed to talk to. Good. Perhaps things could be resolved quickly and Ed would be in his own bed by midnight.

"But why's she gotta come to _dinner_ mum?" That was Boy Ginger's voice. Ed walked into the kitchen, Tonks and Remus behind him, just in time to see Red ignore her son and point her stick at the broken plate on the floor.

"Reparo," she said. Clearly, firmly, with a steady flick of her stick. The pieces of the plate came together as though nothing had happened. Red's gaze narrowed, and with a swish and flick of the stick, the plate rose into the air and set itself on the table.

Al gasped from his place on the stool, picked up the plate. He turned to Ed and said in Amestrian, "Brother, look! No alchemy markings at all!" Ed leaned forward elbows on the table, leaning to favor his emaciated arm.

"Shit. You're right," he said. The wizards were watching their conversation with a certain curiosity.

"Sorry," Al said, in English with a sheepish smile. "Zee vay zis magik ov yours vorks is different vrom vhat brozer and I do. It shows in zee final product and vee cannot help our curiosity on zee matter."

Ed smiled at him, taking the plate in his own hands. There really was nothing. No tell tale flaws at shifted points.

The issue of the plate was so utterly transfixing that Ed hardly noticed the fire place blaze into wild green. But two people falling out of the fire, both coughing, was harder to miss.

* * *

 **Word Count:** 2123

I hope you guys liked this one. The story is approaching the confrontation between Ed and McGonagall that I wanted to have _happen_ in this chapter. But. Ron and Ginny took the wheel and that just did not happen. After we deal with this dinner and McGonagall - which seems to be becoming an arc all onto its own, to my consternation - Bill, Fleur, and Harry will enter the scene and we'll get to the part of the timeline that is _actually covered_ in book six.

We'll all be happy when that happens, I am sure.

Tell me what you think guys! Review!


	8. Tentative Alliances, Tenacious Arguments

**Author's Note:** Here is chapter 8. I'm not sure if my break has actually made for an increase in posting. I'm still busy, just busy in a different way and with different things. I will be heading back to my university in the middle of next week, crazy as it seems. Well. Provided I can rustle up the money for train fare. Somehow. Anyway, I will try to post again before that day. This chapter nearly wrote itself, maybe the next one will go that smoothly.

I hope you enjoy this chapter! Review, please!

 **Disclaimer:** WolfishMoon does not own Hiromu Arikawa's _Fullmetal Alchemist_ or J.K. Rowling's _Harry Potter_. She never claims the contrary and makes no money off of the online publication of this free-to-read fanwork.

* * *

The Scientist's Lament

Chapter 8

Tentative Alliances, Tenacious Arguments

* * *

Of all the so called magic Ed had seen, this was the hardest to comprehend. The newly repaired plate fell to the ground all over again as he gaped at the two soot covered people who clambered, tumbling over each other, from the fireplace.

There was a sharp clearing of the throat from the tall, stern looking woman as she stood and attempted to brush the soot from her clothes with her hand.

"Professor McGonagall!" said the man in evident surprise. In his shock, it took Ed longer than it should have to realize that this was the person Red had wanted him to talk to.

"Hello, Mr. Weasley," the stern woman said. "It seems we accidentally tripped over one another in the floo."

"Err," Red, male edition, said. "Molly didn't say anything to me about you coming over. Otherwise I'd have coordinated my travel times."

Stern simply nodded, and with one last exasperated glance at her robes, pulled out her stick, flicked it, and suddenly was clean. The Ginger Man sheepishly did the same. Red rushed him, giving him a quick hug.

"Glad you're home, Arthur," she said. The two began a whispered exchange. Ed would have made an effort to listen in, but suddenly Stern was bearing down on him. Now Stern was as freakishly tall as Ginger Boy and had the grim set mouth of Hawkeye.

She looked from Alphonse to Edward and back again. To Al she said, "You're the professor, I take it?"

Ed's blood began to boil as Al's eyes went wide. "Ah! _Nein! mein bruder-"_

"WHO ARE YOU CALLINK SHORTER ZAN KINDERKARTENER?"

" _Bruder!_ She never said zat!"

Stern looked at him with all the menacing authority of a disciplinarian. She took his outburst in stride and there was something in her eyes that quieted him all over again. "Mrs. Weasley tells me you have questions about your brother's education."

Ed nodded. "Damn vright I do!"

McGonagall dipped her head once. "Follow me, both of you. We will take this to the garden."

Red looked up from her conversation with her husband at that. "The boys haven't degnomed the garden in a while, Professor. I wouldn't take anything serious out there."

A slight smile graced Stern's face. "That will be fine. I imagine Professor Elric here might have some fellow feeling with them."

Now Ed wasn't quite sure what a gnome was, but it sounded like it was probably short.

"I'M NOT SCHORT, VERDAMMT!"

Stern fixed her eyes on him again - and behind the initial sternness fixed upon her face, there was something akin to amusement lightening her expression. "I was speaking more to the common gnome vulgarity, young man."

Ed glared, but Al had placed a hand on his shoulder. He was in control of himself. "Lead zee vay, Schtern."

"Brother. I wish you wouldn't try to make people mad," Alphonse said in Amestrian.

"We need info, Al," Ed said, following suit on the language. "And so I'm gonna use the same tactics I used on Colonel Bastard. It works."

If Stern registered their conversation at all, she did not show it. They stepped out of the house, and Ed noticed for the first time that evening was beginning to show it's face. The sun was low on the horizon and the edge of the oppressive summer heat had been dulled by a light breeze.

Stern halted by a row of clumsily trimmed bushes and turned to face them. Again, she looked between them. And finally she spoke. "I am appalled by a number of things," she said. "I am appalled that no school picked up your brother and that he fell through the cracks. I am appalled that he appears to be half starved."

Ed had been planning to make the initial onslaught. Not the other way round.

Stern continued. "And I am appalled that two as young as yourselves are left to fend for yourselves. You, Professor Elric, are not nineteen. Even if you do look younger than you are, I put your age at fifteen or sixteen. Seventeen at the very most."

Ed blinked. _Scheisse_.

It was Alphonse who recovered first. And that made a certain amount of sense. It was not Al who had been under attack.

"Zere haff been zertain circumschtances. And none of zem schould be laid at zee feet of mein bruder."

Ed gulped down a wash of guilt, said, "Bruder, I -"

Alphonse continued undeterred. "Given zose circumschtances, he has been zee best of mein caretakers. Outstrippink all of zee adults, bruder has risked life und limb vor my vellbeink. And given zee clearly combative mindset ov everybody here, vee _bos_ have zee right to know vhat vee are gettink into."

"I see you are very close," Stern said. "I hope you know that spiel did nothing to assuage my own doubts. Rather it added to my questions."

Ed could hear Al shrink beside him. "Vell, I, ah - "

"You are right to vonder, Provessor - McGonagall? - McGonagall," Ed said. "But vee haff both done our best to make lives vor ourselves. And vee haff had help along zee vay. Vee are _not_ zee results ov heartless people or non-schtop cruelty."

Stern fixed her narrowed eyes on Ed's, crossed her arms, said, "With that as settled as you seem to be willing to allow. What do you want to know? Please forgive me if I am only as forthcoming as you have been."

Ed closed his eyes. Of course she chose to apply equivalent exchange _here_. Even in a world where magic existed, unneeded equivalent exchange still had to get in his way. "Well," he said. "Vhat I am most vorried about ist zee conflict zat is makink your magic-children as jumpy as zey are. No vone ist villing to talk about it and it ist somezing I actually haff to know bevore I send Alphonse anyvhere."

Stern raised an eyebrow. "Conflict?"

"Don't play zee fool, Schtern. Your people are mired mile high in vhatever zis is. And I need to know vhat. Alphonse und I are already comink out of some crazy bullschite. I vant details bevore vee get ourselfes schtuck into more ov it."

Her already grimly held mouth receded further; her lips completely disappeared into a serious line. She seemed to take a moment to consider, and after that moment she nodded. "Our government is under attack by a group of terrorists who use guerilla warfare indiscriminately against civilians."

Somehow that was both more and less dire than Ed had anticipated. "Vell _scheisse_."

" _Scheisse_ indeed, Professor Elric."

"Vell, bruder, Provessor," Al said blinking. "As awful as zat is, I sink zat ist somezing vee can handle, at least."

Ed nodded, then said in Amestrian, "We have to get you back into shape, Al. Starting tonight, thirty minuets to an hour of sparing both morning and evening."

"Agreed," Al said in the same. "Mrs. Weasley said something about putting me on a 'potion' regimen to help with the atrophy, whatever that means."

Stern, however, had gone somehow slack. She was almost as composed as ever. But her shoulders were perhaps a little rounder, and a little more lip showed in her mouth. Her eyes had widened just a smidgen. "They're very dangerous," she said.

"Vee can tell zat vrom our mutual schtudent," Ed said, snorting. "Iz no valk in zee park. But ist somezing bruder und I probably can survive." Ed eyed the atrophy of Al's muscles. "Vis a little vork, perhaps."

Stern blinked once, and recovered herself. "You realize this just makes me more concerned about your history?"

Ed inclined his head. "Yes. But zere is no point in pretendink if it might reduce our chances. To regain fitness, vee vill haff to be obvious about it."

Al grew funnily still beside him, then spoke up. "You say zat vee und our attitude are somevhat concerning. But zee children in zat house are almost as bad. Zey haff clearly seen combat scenarios. Vhy are vee so much more disturbink to you?"

Stern's eyes grew hard in a way they had not been before. "Those children jumped into battle with no plan, no backup, and barely a word to anyone. They were lured into a trap, and one of our number died when we stepped in to save them. You are not just hardened in the way they are. You also seem to be _competent_. That is what concerns me. "

Ed found that he couldn't argue with that logic without giving up more than he wanted to. He decided to change the subject "Right," he said. "Anyvay, Al's schoolink. Vat iz it vee haff to do?"

Stern looked at him strangely for a moment before going with it. "He will have to attend Hogwarts, the best and only magical school in the United Kingdom."

Ed narrowed his eyes. "And vhere is zis Pig Fungus place?"

"Hogwarts," McGonagall said, stressing the word. "Is hidden in the Scottish Highlands."

"I von't go to Scotland," Al said.

Ed put a hand on Al's arm. "How might I accompany mein bruder to zis Hogvarts place? He must go, but I vill be goink viz him, make no mistake."

McGonagall assessed him, clearly wanting to argue. She settled with, "I would have to discuss it with the Head Master, but there are a few positions you might be able to technically fill to explain your presence at the school and earn your room and board. But I must warn you. The building itself does not take kindly to Muggles, and there will be wards we will have to work around."

Ed was not quite sure what a 'ward' was. He could guess from the etymology, but that was never quite certain. He shrugged. "I've pushed my vay srough vorse to be zere for Alphonse. Vatever your school srows at me vill be no exception."

Al looked at him. "Vat about your job?"

"Teachink Chemistry has never been zee ultimate goal. It vas somezing I sought I might be gut enough at to support ourselves viz - vizout loosink my touch at vat vee do."

"What is it, exactly, that the two of you do?" Stern finally asked.

Ed smirked. "Vat Granger, Scruffy, und Sad saw me do," he said. "Rearrange zee structure of zee atoms in a substance and make it into zee shape and composition vee vant it to be."

Once again, Stern's composure slipped slightly. "You couldn't possibly mean?"

With a grin, Ed took a piece of chalk out of his pocket and twirled it between his left hand thumb and forefinger. Stern's hand came to her mouth. "Alchemy?" she said.

It seemed a demonstration _wouldn't_ be necessary. He laughed a short, surprised laugh. "I vas beginink to sink zat nobody in zis Gott-forsaken country knew vhat it vas!"

"I teach transfiguration. Of course I know what Alchemy is. It's the very precursor to my own specialty. But I wasn't aware that muggles could preform it," she said.

Ed pocketed the chalk, deciding to ignore whatever this 'transfiguration' was. "Alchemy? Iz not magic. Ist zee ultimate science. And like all zee sciences zat schtem vrom it, Alchemy ist repeatable, reasonable, and rule-followink."

Stern considered both Ed _and_ his brother for a moment. "And you both do this?"

Ed grinned and Al nodded beside him. McGonagall straightened, said, "Then I believe I know what the headmaster would want from you. He will be dropping a student off at the Weasley home this next weekend. He should have time to speak to you then."

Without another word, Stern turned pushed past them and turned into the doorway, disappearing back into the house. Ed exchanged a wary glance with Al.

"Was that a good idea, brother?" Al asked in Amestrian.

"I dunno, Al," Ed said. "But if it means I can go with you to that Pig Fungus place, it's worth it, right?"

Alphonse shrugged. "Just be careful, brother. I don't want you to get hurt." He began to head for the door and inside.

"Al?" Ed called. Alphonse came to a halt.

"Yes?"

"The Truth was as stingy as ever with his information, but I'm beginning to think that _this_ is what it wanted us to get ourselves involved in."

Al looked over his shoulder at him. "I'm beginning to think so too," he said. "And that's why we need to be careful."

Ed nodded, stuffed his hands into the pockets of his plain brown slacks, and followed his brother back inside. "I hope these 'wizards' let me go to work tomorrow," he mused aloud. "Can't leave the brats hanging."

* * *

 **Word Count:** 2106

These chapters are beginning to tend towards the longer end of things - on a sliding scale of my usual chapter length, anyway. I remember when I could fit three scenes into a thousand words. Gone are those days - I'm getting better with the little details, but it's a pain to relearn how much I can fit into how many words.

I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. You get two height freak-outs courtesy of Ed. But he's not being as combative as I want to make him and I'm not sure why. I think his mindset at the end of Brotherhood is just... calmer and more settled than in any other point of the series. He's growing up, regardless of how I want to write him.

Anyway, please review and tell me what you think!


	9. Nervewracked

**Authors Note** : It is ridiculous how long this chapter took to get out. I want to say that it won't happen again, but even though I'm plenty motivated on the story, I work two jobs, am active in two clubs, and have so many class obligations my brain feels like mud by the end of the day. And this is in addition to going to protests almost once a week.

I will, however, promise that no matter how long these chapters start taking to come out you will always have at _least_ one or two a month. Always. And now that I'm fully into the swing of the semester I will be able to do a little more.

 **Disclaimer** : I don't own J.K. Rowling's _Harry Potter_ nor Hiromu Arikawa's _Fullmetal Alchemist_. I never claim the contrary and make no money off of the online publication of this free-to-read fanwork.

* * *

The Scientist's Lament

Chapter Nine

Nervewracked

* * *

There had been something of a ruckus, when Ed said he'd wanted to go back to work. Absolutely everyone had spouted off reasons as to why that was a bad idea. But it all boiled down to one thing, he realized. The Statute of Secrecy. It was Stern who'd first put name to the concern. "I think it would be better if you were somewhat contained, Professor Elric. The Ministry is touchy about their secrecy."

And with that statement _everyone_ was riled, nodding their heads in agreement. Except one. Ever the voice of reason, Granger piped up. "I, for one, want to continue my muggle classes. I can't do that if one of my teachers is absent."

The adults all seemed to like Granger; the argument was over not long after she spoke up and Ed was dropped off at the high school with her the next morning.

And for a moment, he just stood there, staring at the door to his classroom. It hadn't hit him at the entrance. It hadn't hit him in the adjoining hall. But it hit him here as he stood before the door of his classroom. Granger looked at him.

"Are you alright, Professor?"

Ed jumped. "Ov course," he said. And he was. Sort of. But he felt like a fraud, about to go in and teach children about a science that could be too easily flouted by people like Granger. He took the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door. "Given zat my brozer has been acquired by your Frau Veasley for health monitoring, vould you help me grade zee labs? I only managed a few, once everyone vent to bed."

Because _that_ the wizards had insisted on. A goddamn slumber party. They didn't just force him to sleep over, they stayed up all hours of the night discussing tactics. Stern had not given away Edward's age. So even after the other children had been ushered away, he was an allowed and expected presence at the table. And while Ed was no longer sleeping for both himself _and_ Al, his routine was to take that extra sleep he was accustomed to.

"Sure," Granger said, eyebrows going up in surprise. "You trust my work that much?"

Ed nodded tiredly. "Maybe not in zee ordinary course of sings. But I'm tired, out ov time, and I graded yours last night. It vas perfect, like usual."

"Oh," said Granger. "Well, hand them over, then." She put her bag on her desk and walked over to his.

Ed handed her half the stack and settled in. If these labs were anything to go by, the entire class would pass. By a hair's breadth, in several cases, but they would pass.

The rest of the week went by similarly. Night was spent at Red's home, with Red's enormous family. Day was spent at school. Not a moment went by that Ed was not under the watchful eye of at least one of these so called Wizards. Granger may have been a juvenile, but she was competent enough. The adults trusted her, and so her presence too felt just a little stifling.

But one thing was for certain. Al rapidly gained weight under Red's watchful eye. And he gained muscle mass under Ed's. After months of slow progress, this week saw Al nigh fully recovered. There was yet a sallowness to his cheeks, and his bottom ribs still protruded too far over his belly, but there was a new definition to his arms, legs, and shoulders. And he was faster, without the sheer mass of the armor to move.

That was enough to put Ed in debt to the wizards.

And in such a way dawned Thursday night. Ed and Granger returned to the Mole Hole after school to find Red in an absolute flurry.

"Iz everysing alright, Frau Veasley?" Ed asked. Red looked at him from her mop. "Red?"

"Bill's bringing his new fiance to stay the weekend!"

"Who ist Bill, again?" Ed asked. He thought he might be one of the Little Reds, but was not quite sure.

"My oldest," Red said.

"The curse breaker," Granger chimed in. "For the bank."

Ed was not quite sure why a bank would need much more than bankers, but decided to let it go.

"And Harry's due to arrive this weekend!" Red looked at the floor, the mop, shook her head. With a wave of her stick, the mop was gone, the bucket of water was gone, and the floor was clean. "I've never even _met_ this fiance. He just sprang this on us yesterday! Didn't even know he'd had a girlfriend!"

Ed suddenly understood why this Bill might have neglected to tell Red about a girlfriend in the first place. "Vere is Alphonse?" he said once Granger had excused herself in favor of her homework.

Red huffed, said, "In the orchard. I can't understand why you insist on these fistfights, Edward."

Ed smiled at her. "If our teacher found out ve'd neglected zee fighting for as long as vee had? She'd srow knives at us and vork us till vee dropped."

Red's hand flew to her mouth. "Are you _mad_?" she asked, voice rising to a yelp, but Ed had already pushed through to the kitchen and the back door.

Outside, Boy and Girl Ginger were degnoming the garden. Ed gave a brief wave and continued on. He could see the shape of Al doing push-ups between the fruit trees in the field ahead - Ed made a bee-line for him.

"Al!"

"Brother, you're back!" Al called in Amestrian, letting his chest fall completely to the ground and sitting up. "How are the students?"

"Doing well," Ed said. "Sort of. I have several Ds. But no Fs, and that's good enough."

"I'm glad!" Al said, standing.

And with that, it was on. "Think fast!" Ed threw the first punch, Al threw the second, followed shortly thereafter with a low wheel kick.

Ed felt the air rush from his chest as he hit the ground, but then he was rolling, rolling, standing. He aimed a flesh-footed side kick to Al's chest. Al dodged, but not quite quickly enough and Ed managed to clip him in the shoulder. Al recoiled, but used his back leg to steady himself. Another low wheel kick came at Ed, and he jumped over it. And so on it continued, until the two of them were interrupted by Boy Ginger, staring at them slack jawed.

"Bloody hell," he said. "Never actually bothered to watch you do this."

Girl Ginger was coming up the slight incline behind Boy Ginger, holding a gnome by one foot, evidently ignoring the slew of obscenities coming out of the creature's mouth. "You need to teach us how to do that," Girl Ginger said as she began to swing the gnome in circles up over her head.

"I sink your mozer vould kill us, if vee did zat, Miss Ginny." Alphonse said, as Ed let him up from his pin-hold on the ground. "If sche von't let you in on zee state of zee terrorism, sche von't let you learn zis sort ov fighting."

"I dunno, mate," Boy Ginger said. "I think she's warming up to the idea of us learning to defend ourselves."

Ed decided he agreed with Al on this score. No teaching the Ginger Children things their mother would disapprove of. He didn't want to antagonize his host any more than he usually did. Besides. Ed had too much respect for mothers.

"Nein," Ed said. They looked about ready to protest, but Ed cut them off. "Anyvay, vat is it you vant? You've never come to vatch us before, so I doubt zat i you sole reason vor coming up now."

Boy Ginger looked down at his trainers as Girl Ginger let go of the gnome's foot sending it flying in a chorus of obscenities. Girl Ginger refocused on Ed with a stubborn defiance in her eye, but Boy Ginger shrugged, said, "Mum says dinner's ready, and that she's got Al's potion ready."

Well. That settled it. The spar was _over_. One of the many things Ed had learned over the past week: Red could out-cook any of the restaurants in Central. And while Ed wasn't eating for both himself and Al anymore, he still had a voracious appetite.

"She's in a foul mood, by the way," Girl Ginger said. "Bill and his 'fiance' have arrived. And boy is Fleur a holy terror."

Ed laughed. "Red must be goink crazy!" He could just see her, arms crossed and eyes wide as she tried to avoid offending her son in front of this girl.

"Vee vill try to schtay out ov her vay," Al said. "Sank you vor zee heads up."

" _Both_ of their ways," Girl Ginger said. "Trust me."

"Gut to know," Ed said as they reached the back door to the house. Al darted ahead, to open the door for the group. The door opened, and Al came to a complete halt.

"Ah!" Al said. "Hallo! Entschuldigung!" Ed poked his shoulder and Al hurriedly corrected himself. "I mean. Excuse me!"

"Bloody hell," said Boy Ginger. Girl Ginger smacked her forehead.

"Not Alphonse, too!"

Al stepped back from the door to properly hold it open. And now Ed understood the ruckus. There in in the doorway, with another tall Ginger Boy standing behind her, stood the most beautiful woman Ed had ever seen. Long silver-blonde hair streamed like water over her shoulders. Or maybe starlight. Her dark blue eyes were certainly enough to generate celestial comparison - big and wide and dark blue as the sky just at dusk.

Ed stood in his best military stance, but even that was hard because this woman's sheer presence knocked the wind from his lungs and send him into a tail spin and - wait a minute.

"You must be ze Germans Madame Weasley was telling me about!"

" _Ja_ ," Ed said with effort - English near refusing to come to him, "Zat vould be us!"

The Tall Ginger Boy behind her was smirking. "Hi," he said. "I'm Bill. Nice to finally meet you."

"And I am Fleur!" the blonde said with a toss of her hair - that nearly dragged Ed under again. What was _wrong_ with him? "Eet 'as been so good to meet zis entire family!" She shot Bill a good natured but pointed look.

He smiled, rolled his eyes. "I know, Fleur. We should've done this sooner."

She smiled at Long-haired Ginger Boy before turning back to the four of them.

"Do come in!" she said. "Sorry to block ze door - Bill was going to show me a gnome from 'is garden."

She stepped back gracefully, long fingers sliding on the wood of the door.

"Ah! Nein!" Alphonse said, awkwardly ducking under Fleur's arm and taking the door from her. "Allow me!"

She beamed. "Zank you Monsieur!"

Ed and Ron fell into rigid formation next to Alphonse as Fleur stepped through the door frame, Long-haired Ginger followed her out looking distinctly pleased with himself.

"I can't believe you," Girl Ginger said.

"What, Gin?" Boy Ginger's eyes were on Fleur as she rounded the corner of the house, Bill's hand on her back, to go experience the gnomes.

Edward was fully back to himself and so he turned to the only one of their number who hadn't lost her head. "Vat vas zat, Girl Ginger?"

"It's Ginny, Ed," Girl Ginger huffed.

"But really," Al said, leaning against the open door with eyes wide. "Vat vas zat?"

"Quarter-Veela," Boy Ginger said with a voice near worship.

"And you remember what full-veelas can do, can't you, Ron?" Ginny said, flipping a sheaf of red hair over her shoulder. "Turn into bird-people and eat you."

"Vas?" Ed said, brows shooting into his hair-antenna as his mind went to chimeras. "Vho did zat to zem? Please tell me zat zee party is in prison."

"Did it to them?" Ginny asked, face incredulous, "They're _veelas._ Their own species. They're born that way."

Alphonse put a hand on Ed's shoulder, and in Amestrian spoke. "Don't think about it too hard, brother. I think it's more of this magic stuff - you should see the books Hermione is making me read. All sorts of weird creatures exist here."

Ed stiffened, and in English, because he half wanted the Ginger Siblings to procure him an answer, said, "Vat kind ov storybook vomited all over zis universe?"

Al administered the save - "He means country. Vee didn't run into zis magic business in Germany."

The Ginger siblings blinked, laughed. "Anyway," Ginny said. "Let's go back inside." She stepped through the doorway - door still held open by Al - in such a good impression of Fleur that Ed could not help but laugh.

Ed ruffled Al's hair as he followed the Ginger Siblings inside.

As they made their way towards the smell of food, Girl Ginger slowed, dropping behind her brother to walk in step with Ed and Al.

And when Ron disappeared into the dining room, Ginny halted, whirled to face them. "I'm going to keep asking for you to teach me," she said.

"Vee vould be perfectly happy to teach you Chemistry," Ed said, but Girl Ginger shot him a look that said she would not be deterred - and suddenly the two inches she had on him seemed a foot.

"You know that's not what I mean."

"Vee vill not do it," Ed said.

"Sorry, Miss Ginny," Al said. "But zee sort ov fighting vee do is not vizout it's risks."

"Vhy do you vant it so badly?" Ed asked. "You have zis magic stuff and all ov you vizards seem to take zat to mean you need nozing else. So vhy do you vant it?"

Ginny's eyes softened and for a moment it seemed she would answer him, but her eyes hardened all over again. She whirled around and flounced around the corner to the dinner table.

Ed exchanged a glance with Al, who shrugged.

"Don't look at me brother, I don't know why she wants to learn," Al said. He paused and his face turned thoughtful. "But if she wants to learn that badly..."

"No," Ed said. "Not if her mother says no. And I'm certain she would."

"Right," Al said. "Let's go eat, brother."

Ed nodded and the two of them followed Ginny's tracks towards the scrubbed wooden table. And there was Mrs. Weasley, potion vial in hand.

"There you are, Alphonse!" she said pushing the bottle into his hand. "Drink up!"

Ed laughed at Al's grimace and sat at the table.

Soon enough, the table was full. Extra stools had to be pulled in from the kitchen when Granger returned from homework duty and Bill and Fleur came in from peeking at what gnomes Ron and Ginny missed.

It was tense and awkward. And the name Harry Potter seemed to skitter through the conversation like a mouse - sneakily and very fast, the name made everyone more restless than they were to begin with.

Ed decided that meeting Potter would answer _many_ of his questions.

* * *

 **Word Count** **:** 2526

Fleur's accent gives me a headache. Ironic, I know. But I get so used to the German that I have to write Fleur with book six open on my lap.

Please tell me what you think!


	10. Negotiations

**Author's Note** **:** Hooly shit friends. This chapter came out _veeery_ slowly. Every little piece of it clawed it's way onto the page through a goddamn blizzard. Seriously. It wouldn't have taken so long otherwise.

On the bright side, it actually cleared 3000 words!

Another thing to celebrate, we're officially at the ten chapter mark! Also 99 reviews! Thank you so so much everybody. I wasn't expecting this sort of response and I am really happy about it. Anyway. _Enjoy!_

 **Disclaimer** **:** WolfishMoon doesn't own Hiromu Arikawa's _Fullmetal Alchemist_ or J.K. Rowling's _Harry Potter_. She never claims the contrary and makes no money off of the online publication from this free-to-read fanwork.

* * *

The Scientist's Lament

Chapter Ten

Negotiations

* * *

Saturday night was the longest wait of Ed's life. He sat at Mrs. Weasley's scrubbed kitchen table - Matron of the Red Hair on his left, Alphonse on his right for what felt like _hours._

"Vat time did he say he vas coming, again?" Ed said, checking his watch. Alphonse's chin was in his hand, elbow propped on the table; his eyes fluttered further open at the sound of Ed's voice and Ed knew his brother was ten seconds away from being dead to the world.

"He didn't, dearie," Mrs. Weasley said. "He just said that he would be late - he had an errand he wanted to run with Harry before dropping him off."

"Vat could possibly be standing in zee vay ov zis man's schedule?" Ed asked. "I underschtand zat zee school year is coming up, but zere cannot possibly zat much to do!"

Ed wasn't sure on that score, actually. Ms. Jenkins - the principal at his own place of work - was sporting a shorter and shorter temper, as of late.

Mrs. Weasley just shrugged. "How about I make us some tea?" she said. "Keep us all awake."

Ed nodded. "Sank you." He caught Alphonse one-armedly when Al slumped to the side, well and truly asleep. A pain bloomed in his arm - it was his still-weakened right, of course. He closed his eyes against the feeling and twisted, using his left arm to shift Alphonse onto the table.

He shook his arm just as Mrs. Weasley turned from the stove. "Are you alright?" she asked, arms crossing below her breasts. "You didn't hurt yourself in one of those fistfights, did you?"

Ed's eyes went wide, "Ah! Nein! I'm vine, just old injury! Acts up vhen veather changes." And that was not precisely a lie. It was more sensitive when the weather changed, and the cold of the night was only just fully setting in.

"I don't know what you were doing, to have old injuries," Mrs. Weasley said, brown eyes narrowed with suspicion, but I don't like it.

Ed laughed - a sharp laugh, but there was a not of genuine amusement in it. "Trust me, Frau Veasley," he said. "I didn't like it eizer."

The corner of her lip _might_ have twitched upwards, but Mrs. Weasley didn't laugh. But they were spared the silence of disapproval by the whistling of the kettle. Ed sobered as Mrs. Weasley turned off the flame with a flick of her wand. With another flick, the hot water began pouring itself over three cups of tea leaves - two with milk, one conspicuously without.

"I vasn't beink flippant," Ed said, English suddenly a mouthful. "I didn't enjoy zee sings I haff had to do. But zere vere reasons zat I had to do zem, and iv I had not? I don't sink my life vould be much better."

"I'm sure there could have been a way around it," Mrs. Weasley said, seating herself across from him, spoon delicately stirring her tea by itself as she clutched the cup with both hands.

There was a sold thunk as Ed's landed in front of him. "I don't sink so," Ed said. "I did zee best viz vat I had. And iv I'd not done it, is possible boz Alphonse und I vould be dead."

There was still an overt attempt at disapproval - a short huff emitting from her mouth - but Weasley's eyes had softened. And just as Ed picked up his tea cup, there were three hard knocks on the door. Ed nearly jumped out of his skin, and he was disconcerted to note that he and Mrs. Weasley were not the only ones to do so. Alphonse jerked awake, elbow hitting against his own tea cup as he jolted.

Ed put both hands on his brother's shoulders, a knot forming in his chest. He did not regret his choices, but _what_ had he done to his brother? "Alphonse!" he said, "It's okay. It's okay."

The confusion in Al's eyes faded, and Ed turned to look at the door. Mrs. Weasley stood before it, chest heaving nervously. "Who's there? Declare yourself!" she said with surprisingly little waver in her voice.

Ed tried to ignore Al's grip tightening on his forearm.

"It is I, Dumbledore, bringing Harry." Finally, they had arrived. Mrs. Weasley threw open the deadbolt and flung the door wide.

"Harry, dear! Gracious, Albus! I know you said you'd be in late, but I was expecting rather sooner than two in the morning."

The old man looked suddenly long-suffering. "The Dursley family proved rather more difficult than I was anticipating. Ah! You must be the Elric brothers!"

Beard walked over the threshold, arms extended. Ed felt Al take the slightest of steps behind him. _Oh no._ But Dumbledore's advance allowed for a major advantage - the small scruffy youth that stood behind him was now visible.

 _This_ was Potter?

Politeness be damned, Ed craned his neck to get a better look. But Long Beard placed himself firmly in his line of sight. "Now which one of you is young Alphonse?"

If Ed was worried that Al would not be able to function, he was wrong. Ed felt a small rush of pride as Al straightened and squared his shoulders, bringing his height well above Ed's.

"Zat vould be me, Headmaster."

Dumbledore nodded sagely, and Ed was not sure if the man was surprised at the height difference or if he had already known - his face gave nothing away. He turned to the dark haired youth behind him and gave a brief adieu.

"If you would accompany me outside, Alphonse?" Dumbledore said, a pleasant note in his voice.

"Nein," Ed said, immediately veto-ing the idea. "It is fery late, und vee are bos tired. Inside is surely zee best location for our discussion?"

Dumbledore looked at Ed with a piercing look - Ed matched it. Adults had a way of making themselves sound reasonable and wise and Ed wasn't letting any of them get away with it.

"Only if you don't mind an audience," Dumbledore said. In contrast to the sharpness of his eyes, his voice remained carefully unassuming and mild. Ed automatically distrusted it.

"Vor zee basics of Alphonse's enrollment, I don't see vhy zat vould be an issue," Ed said, crossing his arms.

"I sink vee schould go outside," Al said and Ed nearly jumped out of his skin. "I am sure zat zee headmaster has questions zat may be difficult vor us to answer."

Ed glowered. Who's side was Al on, anyway?

"It seems you are out numbered, Mr. Elric."

"Vine, zen," Ed said, glowering. "Vee can go outside. At two in zee morning. Zat isn't recipe vor disaster at all."

Al pulled a face to match Ed's. "Come on, bruder. Don't be a brat about zis." He turned to Beard. "Schall vee?"

Dumbledore nodded graciously and beamed when Al stepped up and opened the door for him. Ed huffed at Dumbledore's back as the elderly man stepped over the threshold.

"After you, brother," Al said in Amestrian. "Try not to be a jerk."

Ed rolled his eyes and stepped passed him. "He's the jerk," he said, briefly sticking out his tongue.

"What dialect of German do you speak?" Beard said. From the high school's principal to Hogwarts headmaster, too many goddamn school administrators spoke German.

Ed swore. And decided to switch to English. Dumbledore's German sounded worse than Ed's English and he'd be damned if he had to talk to Beard in his mother tongue.

"We're vrom a village in zee middle ov fuckink novhere. Vee talk funny." As far as Ed could tell - and he went looking, during his stay in Berlin - there was nowhere in Germany that spoke any dialect of Amestrian. And once you threw in the fact that Eastern Amestrian had a subtly different accent to Centro-western Amestrian, Ed doubted he'd find anything like it here.

"Bruder!" Al said, poking a reprimanding elbow into Ed's ribs.

"Fair enough," Dumbledore said - he too switching back into English. "Now. As far as I am aware, you've discussed the basics of Alphonse's enrollment with Professor McGonagall?"

"Sort of," Ed said.

"I know I am schtill somevat concerned viz my progress in zee material I am to learn," Al said. "Professor McGonagall gave me schtudy guide to vork viz, und Hermione has been very gracious in lending me her old materials, but I haff no practical experience and I don't vant to be behind at zee fery beginning. Learnink vour years ov material in one summer isn't easy."

"Don't worry too much about that," Dumbledore said. "We'll be housing you with the fifth years, but we'll put you into the classes you test in. Just do your best."

"Right, zat I can do." Al said with a small smile, before furrowing his brow. "I vill need a vand before progressing much furzer, zough."

Beard nodded, clasping his hands in front. "I can arrange for that to happen before the end of the week. Nymphadora will be a fine escort, I trust? You've seemed to have a marvelous effect on her spirits."

And who in hell was _Nymphadora_? Beard must have seen the quizzical look on Ed's face, for he laughed. "I imagine you know her as Tonks. I apologize."

And suddenly Tonks's statement about not needing to know her first name made a _lot_ more sense. Ed had initially assumed it had something to do with military formality - Mustang was not _Roy,_ Hawkeye was not _Riza_. But Nymphadora was the most ridiculous name Ed had ever had.

And just like that, Ed was cracking up. "Vat zee hell vere her parents sinking!"

"Bruder!" Al said. "It's not vunny!" But he was laughing too, and even Beard had a smile on his face.

"Wizards seemed to have largely misplaced their sense of the ridiculous, I'm afraid," Beard said. "It can be a bit of a shock, for muggle-born students, to realize that we do what we do with no trace of irony."

"Vondervul," Ed said, smirking. "Vee have fallen into zee least self avare group ov people I've seen since Liore."

Beard frowned, nodded. "I'm afraid so, even if I'm not sure of your point of reference."

"Vorget I said zat, ja?"Ed said with a dismissive wave and kicking himself internally. "And I suppose now to our ozer business."

"Yes," Dumbledore said, razor sharp eyes still glimmering in the dark of the night. "Minerva told me of your desire to accompany Alphonse. And of your particular talent."

"Iz zat vat ve're calling it?" Ed said, cupping his left hand over the dip below his bony right shoulder against the cold. "My particular talent?"

"Minerva said that your description was unmistakably of alchemy, but please excuse me being skeptical," Beard said. "Would you mind giving me a demonstration? I would need to see, before making any decisions."

"Demonstration?" Ed said , he had expected this, of course. "Vine by me. Vat sort ov transmutation vould you like to see?"

"By all means, surprise me," Dumbledore said, gesturing outward with his hands.

Now Ed knew how he would handle that - he could see it in his mind, a great shot of stone springing from the ground and throwing Beard into the air. He smirked and picked a stick up off the ground to draw the necessary array into the earth.

But Alphonse spared the headmaster. "Don't do anything crazy, brother," Al said in Amestrian. "I actually want to go this school."

And if that wasn't a burst to his bubble, Ed didn't know what was. "Fine," he said. After a moment, the array he would actually use cleared in his mind. The math came _so so_ smoothly as he etched the symbols into the loose summer soil. He couldn't help but smile as he did so - it was so rare in this world that he had the opportunity to use the science he'd devoted his life to, the science he was _so_ glad to still be able to use.

He was drawing in he last sigil when he realized that Beard was hovering over his work to actually _read_ the runes. "Are you an Alchemist?" Ed asked as he threw the stick to the side.

Beard smiled faintly - Ed immediately sensed that there was a story behind that smile. "I know a little," Dumbledore finally said. "Enough to know that you're going to be doing a fairly standard reshaping and condensing of soil."

Ed nodded. "It's a fery gut transmutation to haff in your arsenal - fersatile, and easy to scale to large proportions. Zee runes are simple, und quick to draw."

"It vas one ov our teacher's vaforites," Al said. "Sche vas best at zis sort of repurposing."

Ed bent, placed his palms firmly over the circle's edge. Under both hands he could feel the relative coolness of the ground. And there was that glimmer of the tectonic plates.

The scruffy Weasley yard lit up in blue, and a to scale miniature of the Burrow rose to Ed's eye level. Minimal transmutation marks, exacting detail. But there was something off... the doors! He'd forgotten the knobs.

"Und zis is not quite up to my usual standard," Ed said, nose wrinkling. "Teachink chemistry has made me vlabby."

If Beard was at all surprised at the prowess, he did not show it. "Do you have a decent grasp of multiple fields of reactions? Or is soil and stone your main forte?"

Ed grinned. "Zere is not bit ov alchemy zat I cannot do," he said. And wasn't that the case? In the end, even Truth had given back most of what it had taken.

"Well, Mr. Elric. It seems Hogwart's has a teaching position open to you."

And finally there was the offer; an inarguable ticket to accompanying Al. Ed's grin widened. "Im am zee best person vor zee job, trust me."

Beard laughed. "I certainly hope so. You're the only person _for_ the job. Hogwarts hasn't been able to offer Alchemy as an elective in decades."

Now that was not what Ed was expecting. For the week since Stern recognized Alchemy for what it was Ed thought that he might, even here, find colleagues. But no such luck, apparently. Ed shook of the surprise and said, with as much attitude as he could muster, "Vell. Efen iv zere vas millions of alchemists, I vould schtill be zee best man vor zee job."

"He vould be, too," Al said from behind him.

"Then I trust that it will be so," Dumbledore said. "But I must ask. How old are you, dear boy?"

Ed winced. "Is it any ov your business?"

"I am afraid so," Beard said. "Even if only to get your lies straight, and be able to repeat them when the Ministry asks. And they will ask. I don't believe they're _quite_ done trying to discredit me."

Ed sighed, shaking his head. "Vine. I am sixteen."

"But zat doesn't mean he is not qualified," Alphonse said, suddenly striding towards Beard with a sort of desperate purpose in his eyes. Ed found himself smiling all over again, eyes softening at Alphonse's display. "Efen disregardink my feelings as his brozer, I can objectively say zat he is one ov zee best alchemists ov zee age."

Dumbledore put up a quelling hand. "Sixteen was Minerva's estimate, and that is frankly what I was prepared for. I just needed to know."

"So you are okay viz zee fact zat I am younger zan some ov your students?"

Dumbledore sighed. "It's not so much that I'm _okay_ with it, but I've not seen an alchemist of your caliber since my friend Nicholas Flamel passed away. I also understand that young Alphonse's enrollment hinges on you accompanying him to Hogwarts. I am not prepared to let a young wizard slip through the cracks _twice_."

And if Ed was not mistaken, there was a fleeting flash of pain on Dumbledore's face. Ed filed _that_ tidbit of information away. "Thank you," Ed said, damnable 'th' and all, quickly jerking his eyes from Beard.

"Thank _you_ ," Dumbledore said, producing a packet of papers from his odd clothing. "I'll need you to fill out this paperwork. There will be blanks you can't, as a muggle, actually fill. But do what you can and owl it back to me."

"I can do zat," Ed said, squinted to see the small lettering in the darkness. In Amestrian, Ed amended his statement. "Well. I can do it inside, anyway."

After a moment of scrutinizing the forms, Ed became aware that _he_ was the subject of scrutiny. Beard's twinkling blue eyes were watching him with a sort of seriousness that was new.

"Minerva has, of course, apprised you about the situation with Voldemort?"

"She has," Ed said.

"Whenever you come into our world, then, it's best you keep your wits about you," Dumbledore said. " _Both_ of you, that is."

Ed snorted. "Our vits haff been permanently about us since vee vere fery small."

Beside him, Alphonse nodded with a small smile. "It may not be easy," he said. "But vee vill survive. Vee're already taking measures to be sure ov it."

Ed nodded, chuckled. "Many people haff vound us hard to kill. Zese terrorists ov yours vill be no different."

Beard frowned. "Minerva said you'd said that to her. And so I will leave you with a reminder not to be too cocky."

"Vee von't be, Provessor," Alphonse said. "Ve're vorking ourselves back to zee vitness zat vee need to be." He let out a self depreciating chuckle. "As you can see, it has been a bit ov vork."

Ed sent Al a side eye. Didn't his brother know that he was achieving the nigh impossible, coming back from that sort of malnutrition?

Dumbledore's bushy white eyebrows disappeared behind his mane of hair. "I'm glad to hear that you're taking the threat seriously."

"Vee von't ever make zee mistake ov not taking it seriously," Ed said. "But sank you vor zee varning, yeah?"

"You're quite welcome," Beard said, before yawning widely. "I believe that is a sign that we're all better off in our beds."

Ed gave Beard a sharp salute, "I look forvard to vorking viz you."

"Likewise," Beard said before turning to Alphonse. "And I look forward to counting you amongst my students, young man."

"I look forvard to learning vrom you," Al said, smiling and sticking a scrawny hand out for the Headmaster to shake.

Beard took it, shook it, brow creasing in what Ed decided might be worry. When Dumbledore turned back to him, Ed stuck out his own hand.

When the pleasantries were said and done, Beard disappeared with a loud crack. Ed damn near jumped out of his skin. "Since when can they teleport?" Ed said in Amestrian.

"It's called apparition, apparently," Al said. "Came across it in some of the books. It was mentioned very casually, so I had to ask Hermione. Turns out it's so commonplace that nobody would think to put a description of it in a book."

Ed shuddered and turned back to the Burrow. "Weirdos."

"Yeah," Al said. "No question. Let's go inside, brother."

Ed nodded. "Sure," he said. And after undoing his previous transmutation, they did.

* * *

 **Word count** **:** 3340

SO. What did you think? I know everyone was looking forward to the meeting with Dumbledore, and I hope it met expectations.

Thank you for reading! Your reviews would be appreciated.


	11. Flesh Wounds

**Author's Note:** I think this may be the longest absence we've yet had - but it has brought forth rather impressive fruit. I'm proud to announce that this is the longest chapter yet. It may mess up my write-time and my plotting, but here we are. I hope you enjoy the chapter, and make sure you review and tell me what you think!

 **Disclaimer:** _FullMetal Alchemist_ and _Harry Potter_ are owned respectively by Hiromu Arikawa and J.K. Rowling. I never claim otherwise and make no money from the online publication of this free-to-read fanwork.

* * *

The Scientist's Lament

Chapter 11

Flesh Wounds

* * *

Even at the height of summer, the chill of two a.m. was tangible. Stepping into the warmth of the Burrow was like entering a warm bath - the aches in Ed's shoulder and thigh immediately eased. They didn't disappear, Ed was never _that_ lucky. But they eased.

"How did it go?" Mrs. Weasley asked. She was sitting at the table, across from the boy that had to be Harry Potter, and next to her husband. Mr. Weasley must have arrived while Ed and Al were outside.

"Fery vell!" Al said. "Tonks vill be taking me to buy a vand next veek!"

"You don't have a wand?" That came from Potter, and Ed could not help but glare at him for it.

"Ah," Al said, feet shuffling. "I only vound out zat I vas a vizard recently. So I'm fery behind in my mileschtones. I'm Alphonse Elric. You must be Mr. Harry?"

Potter blinked at his soup. "Um. That's me. Just Harry, yeah?"

"Right," Al said. "Sorry."

It was at that point that Potter looked at Ed. He looked supremely awkward, but Ed was not prepared to quite end his scrutiny. The boy was thin and sma- not freakishly tall for his age. Ed felt an immediate empathy there. But what else? His eyes were a vibrant shade of green and dancing nervously. Just like the other children, this boy had gone through a trauma. It was plain to see.

Ed's eyes shifted to Alphonse. His brother was calmer, now, but the jumpiness of earlier replayed itself in Ed's mind. He grimaced.

"I'm Ed, Al's older brozer," he finally said. "But you von't vant to get used to calling me zat. I'll be a teacher at zis Pig Vungus school ov yours zis fall."

The Weasley parents' head jerked up in unison. "Teaching?"

"What? But you can't be," Potter said, with a confused shake of his head. " Slughorn's the new DADA professor, I just got done convincing him."

Here the Weasleys exchanged a confused glance. Ed decided to ignore it.

"Nefer said I vould be teaching zis DADA," Ed said, flicking his antenna up and out of his eye for a maximum height advantage.

"Then what _are_ you teaching?"

For whatever reason this was a matter of extreme importance for the boy. Ed shrugged. "Alchemy. Is an elective. Not sure vat years it vill be open to yet."

Potter tilted his head. "It rings a bell," he said, furrowing his brow. "Is it that thing that makes philosopher's stones?"

Ed scowled. "Nein," he said. Now Potter looked _very_ confused, but Ed would be damned if he said any more on the matter.

Al winced, said, "Just take zee class," he said. "Iv you like science, you vill like Alchemy."

"It's a science?" Harry said with an unhealthy amount of surprise. Now that was ridiculous. If Alchemy 'rang a bell' with the kid it had damn well better have done so in the _realm_ of physics and chemistry.

"I think everyone's tired," Mrs. Weasley said. "Arthur's had long day at work, and Dumbledore kept dear Harry out much too late."

"Bed sounds vondervul to me," Alphonse said.

"I'd tell you to go join Ron in his room, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, "But I don't want to wake him. If Edward and Alphonse don't mind, why don't you share Fred and George's old room with them? I can pull out the spare cot."

"Don't vorry about it Frau Veasley," Ed said, waving a hand dismissively. "Al and I can share a bed vor one night."

"Oh," Potter said. "Thank you."

"Is vine," Ed said. "Just move in vis zee Boy Ginger tomorrow, yes?" Alphonse hit him squarely on the right arm. Ed winced.

"His name is Ron," Al said with a long-suffering sigh.

"Be carevul vis zee arm!" Ed said, glaring. But Mrs. Weasley was also glaring, and Ed made no protest on the subject of Boy Ginger's name.

"Oh sorry _bruder,_ " Al said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

"I am going to take a look at that arm, Edward," Mrs. Weasley said, rolling up the sleeves of her maroon robe.

"Vas? Zere's nozing vrong vis it!" Ed said, clutching at it nervously. One malnourished boy could be explained away, but a singularly shriveled arm on an otherwise healthy body?

"Tomorrow, Mr. Elric," Mrs. Weasley said. "I don't care what you say, I need to see it."

Ed scowled. "Nein."

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice in the matter," she said. "If you want to continue living here, you'll let me take a look at it."

"Sehr gut!" Ed said, growling. "I don't vant to live here, you gottdamn vizards kidnapped me und I vent vis it!"

"Wizards _what_?" Potter said with a yelp. "Why would the Order kidnap him?"

"Remus thought Edward might be a threat," Mrs. Weasley said. "Why, when he's clearly just a boy, I don't know. But it turned out that Alphonse was a wizard, so it was all for the best."

Ed felt Alphonse's hand land on his good shoulder and leaned into the warmth, fuming. He decided right then and there that Mrs. Weasley would never be privy to his actual age. Ever.

"How did you even come across them?" Harry said. "It's just so _random._ "

"I teach chemistry in a high school," Ed said. "Granger takes summer school courses zere und I got too curious vor my own good."

"Oh," Harry said, deflating. "Don't know why she bothers." But that was so very obvious! Ed rolled his eyes. The boy was clearly not the sharpest tool in the shed. If this was the boy that the wizards were resting their hopes on Ed was sure that they would be sorely disappointed. _He_ was sorely disappointed.

Ed decided that for once in his life he would take the path of least resistance, shrugged. "I'm going to bed. Is almost three in zee morning, und I haff lab reports left to grade. Alphonse?"

Al tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn before nodding. "Mr. Harry?"

"Yeah. Sleep sounds good," he said, looking down at his lap. "Thanks." With that the boy stood from the table and politely pushed in the wooden chair.

Well. At least Potter showed respect to the Matron of the Red Hair, Ed decided. Mothers were important. With that thought Ed left the kitchen and climbed the stairs, the other two boys trailing after him like ducklings.

When sleep came finally came, it was not Nina that Ed saw; equations swirled in his mind, curricula organized itself. And a class of eager students dressed in robes, starved from the saving grace that is science, chalked transmutation circles onto the stone floor of a wide classroom.

* * *

When Harry was awoken very late the next morning, he found that the strange brothers had already vacated the other bed.

"Where'd they go?" he asked, when the grog was blinked away, the pleasantries taken care of, and the topic of Sirius danced around.

"Out to the orchards," Hermione said, perched on the edge of the bed. "For their morning spar."

"Spar?" Harry said. Because that was _mad_ , one boy still showed the signs of recent emaciation and the other was altogether too _small._

"I don't know what their background is," she said. "But the two of them are both quite formidable. Or were. Or something. The point is, they heard about Voldemort and their reaction was to, 'Get back in shape. Oh, if our teacher saw us this flabby!'"

"Flabby?" Harry said. "But the taller one is a walking skeleton!"

"And he's got more meat on 'im now than he did! Dunno what to tell you, mate," Ron said. "But they're incredible."

"Are you talking about Ed and Al?" Ginny appeared in the doorway wearing a scowl the size of the moon.

"Did you ask them _again_?" Hermione said.

"Yeah," Ginny said. "And they said no. _Again_."

"I don't think they'll change their minds, Gin," Ron said with a shake of his head. "You've asked 'em about fifty times already."

"Oh. They'll change their minds alright," she said. "They'd better." Ginny wasn't looking at Ron as she spoke, Harry realized. She was looking at Harry with a hardened seriousness. He blinked, and Ginny had refocused her attention on her brother.

Everyone's mind was permanently drawn away from the Elric brothers when Fleur walked in with Harry's breakfast. She was followed by a cross Mrs. Weasley, and the information that she was quite suddenly engaged to Bill. The two of them disappeared as suddenly as they appeared, taking a furious Ginny along with them.

The quiet camaraderie of the morning disappeared entirely when Harry made the mistake of mentioning the pending arrival of the OWLs. Hermione left the room too, grabbing a flustered Ron by the wrist and taking him with her.

It took Harry a good minute to pull himself from his bed. When he managed to steady himself, he peered out the window. Harry hadn't been inside of Fred and George's room before, and now he was awake enough to be curious. Outside of this window lay the expanse of the Weasley property. And sure enough, up the hill between the rows of fruit trees, two blond boys moved with a speed and ferocity Harry didn't see often.

Maybe he was wrong. Both short and skinny had different strengths and weaknesses - and they knew enough about each other to be _very_ evenly matched. Even from here Harry knew that neither was pulling their punches. Which was odd. He'd seen last night how protective Ed was of Al, though why Ed considered Professor Dumbledore to be a threat from which Al needed protection, Harry wasn't sure.

He shrugged and pulled his shirt over his head. He took one last look when his glasses were readjusted. Harry may not have known much about the muggle equivalent of duelling, but Voldemort had taught him the ins and outs of a fight. And these two were _good_.

* * *

The fight finished with Ed on the ground; it hadn't taken Al long to regain his usual place as victor. "Sorry, brother," Al said with a sheepish smile and an extended hand.

Ed rolled onto his back and smiled. "You always win, Al," he said and took his brother's proffered hand. "I'm glad you're back to that strength."

His legs were wobbly when he stood, but all that engendered in Ed was pride and relief. Relief that his brother was better, pride that he himself could work his body to its limits and _enjoy_ it again.

His right arm was still a buzzing ache, and he knew he'd have to face the music of Mrs. Weasley eventually, but he and Al snuck out while Mrs. Weasley herself was groggily sipping tea at the table. She was tired enough that she even forgot to harass them about breakfast. Not that Ed blamed the Matron of the Red Hair for that. It was more than usually difficult to drag himself out of his bed that morning, and a stack of unmarked lab reports still sat on the Red Twins's work bench.

Ed shook the thoughts of marking from his head, smiled at Al, said, "Let's go in and get some food, Al. Your potions are probably ready."

"Probably. We've been out here a long time." Al said, clasping his hands together. "What're you gonna do with Mrs. Weasley? I don't think you'll get out of showing her your arm."

Ed shrugged. Mrs. Weasley had a good head on her shoulders, he knew. "I wasn't all that good at keeping it a secret back home, either."

"True," Al said. But by his shifty eyes Ed knew that his brother wasn't reassured.

Ed sighed. "I don't see a way to get out of it, Al. And what's she gonna do with the information? What _can_ she do? Nothing. The consequences of the taboo aren't well known here. _Alchemy_ isn't well known here."

Ed kept his gaze steady, saw the exact moment that Al grudgingly accepted his logic. "Let's go," he said, extending his left arm for Al to lean on. Al nodded, and so the two boys went inside to face the music.

Very loud music it turned out to be. Mrs. Weasley, flanked on either side by Girl Ginger and the Fiance, had her arms crossed, wand dangling from the fingertips of her right hand. And she was scowling at them with the very wrath of God. Ginny and Fleur, by contrast, looked cowed. "Out!" she told the two girls. "I need to talk to Edward alone."

Both Ginny and Fleur bounded from the room like deer with wolves on their tails. With them gone, Mrs. Weasley looked between Ed and Al. She settled on Ed. "Are you comfortable with Al here?"

Ed nodded. "I haff no secrets vrom him."

The Matron of the Red Hair's glare was no longer focused solely on Ed. "Which means you knew about his arm trouble. I expected more commom sense from you, Alphonse."

Al flashed an awkward smile, rubbed a hand at the base of his skull. "I haff been tight lipped about brozer's issues vor a long time," he said, voice cracking high.

Mrs. Weasley's eyes narrowed. Ed sighed, sat down, slipped off the glove he still habitually wore. The Matron of the Red Hair was immediately attentive - Ed could see her take in the protruding bones of his hand.

Ed went to roll up his sleeve, stopped himself, and went to his shirt buttons. "Zee issue begins all zee vay at my shoulder," he said. "Iv you vant to underschtand, you vill haff to see it all." His voice was not shaking, but English was lead on his tongue. Al seemed to sense his anxiousness, for suddenly he stood at Ed's good left shoulder.

Mrs. Weasley was nodding. "I want to see it," she said. "I want to help. No one should be in as much physical pain as you seem to be. Let alone someone just barely out of childhood."

Ed's fingers halted at the buttons. "You vill haff to leave zee 'child' shit behind," he said. "I vas ten vhen I lost zis arm und I lost zee last ov my childhood vis it - but most ov it had levt me already."

Al nodded his support, and Ed took that to heart. But Mrs. Weasley was assessing him with a a harrowed look Ed had not before seen on her face. "Lost the arm?" she asked, somewhere between skeptical and horrified.

 _Shit._ Ed looked away. He'd not meant to let that slip. "Ja. You heard me."

Her lips pursed together, skepticism clearly winning, but Ed ignored it and resumed with his shirt buttons. When the sweat-damp button down was shed, Ed found he could not look up from where it had fallen on the floor. He was just glad for the tank top underneath the shirt - the arm was enough to try and explain away.

A quiet gasp had come from Mrs. Weasley's direction, and her fingers prodded at the automail scarring. The port was _mostly_ gone, but the evidence of the surgery was there to say. Bits of metal were still occasionally surfacing and working their way out of his skin. Mrs. Weasley had gone to one such location. It hadn't poked its way from Ed's flesh yet, but the skin was inflamed and swollen.

"Iv you vere to cut into zat spot," Ed said - his voice _was_ shaking now, and still he refused to look at her, "you vould vind a piece ov metal zere."

"Metal?" Mrs. Weasley asked, "By Merlin, why metal?"

Ed shook his head. "Iz long schtory."

"If I'm to help you at all, I'll need to know it." Her eyes had gone steely, and the tremble in her voice had lessened.

" _Nein_." There were places Ed would go, and there were places Ed would never go. "Iz none ov your business, und zee whole sing is healink better zan I had hoped."

Mrs. Weasley's mulishness was not to be flouted. "It could heal better," she said. "You may be a muggle, young man, but your brother is a wizard and there is no reason you shouldn't reap the benefits."

"To train zee mind one must virst train zee body. Zis goes part und parcel viz zat training," Ed said. "I haff alvays - _alvays_ \- brought my body back on my own. Zere is no reason to change zat because ov zis hocus pocus!"

For several seconds, the three of them just stood there. Each shook with the forces of their own determination. Ed was not going to back down - but Mrs. Weasley seemed prepared to out-stubborn him.

"Winry made him a prosthetic!" Al said.

" _Alphonse_!" Ed made to stop him - in Amestris, Al would never have dared. But Al would not be stopped.

"An Alchemist needs two hands to do zier vork, so Winry und Grandma took all zee medical science zey knew and zey made him an arm." With the last of Al's sentence went Ed's energy. He pulled out a chair and fell into it in one motion.

"What?" Mrs. Weasley said. "Made him an arm?"

"You heard Al," Ed said. "You heard him. It vorked fery vell vor a long time."

"How did you get it back?" Mrs. Weasley too had fallen into a chair, and her words came out in a whisper.

Ed deliberately closed his mouth and shot Al a warning glance when he opened his own mouth. _We've told her too much already, little brother. Please don't tell her. Please._ But he needn't have worried.

"It vas a burst ov accidental magic," Al said in the boldest lie Ed had ever heard him say.

"You saved your brother," The Matron of the Red Hair said with a teary smile.

Ed could not help but be impressed; Al nodded, looked somberly off into the middle distance, said, "Vee didn't know vat had happened - brozer's arm vas back, too thin vor life und sctill expelling zee metal of zee prosthetic, but it vas back. My own body, vich vas severely wounded in zee same accident, vas also restored.

"Vee couldn't explain it to our friends. Winry? Granny? Zey vould haff hit us viz wrenches vor dabbling in zee vorbidden! So vee came to London, hoping to hide avay from all zat vee knew."

"You poor things," Mrs. Weasley said, folding her hands around her wand.

 _She bought it!_ Ed could have sung. _She bought it she bought it she bought it!_

"Well," she continued, "We will start out small. I can't put you on Alphonse's potion regimen because we don't want quick growth to cement in the metal bits, but I can get out the pieces that are surfacing."

Ed jerked up. He should have known that showing her meant that she would _do_ something about it, but years of port maintenance had made him somewhat over-sensitive to people handling his right shoulder.

"Vas? I don't sink is necessary, Frau Veasley," he said. "Zee arm is healing quite vell on its own, und it vill continue to do so, I believe. No hocus pocus needed!"

But Al was not about to let that slide. In angry, fast paced Amestrian, he muttered, "Just let her do it, brother. You're not helping anyone by sitting around weakened and in pain! What would Winry say?"

Ed had never yet won a fight he had with Al, and he didn't win this one.

The Matron of the Red Hair stood menacingly over him, potion bottles tucked in her apron pocket, bucket of hot water in her left hand, wand in her right, and two fluffy towels hanging off her elbow.

"One potion is for the pain," she said, setting down the bucket. "The other will be applied topically and will help close up any incisions I have to make."

"Vine," Ed said, gritting his teeth. "Just get it over zis."

And she did. With rather more precision than Ed expected, Mrs. Weasley cut into the two swollen abscesses on his shoulder. She pulled three pieces of plating and a wire from them, muttering about barbaric muggles all the while.

In Amestrian, Ed said to Al, "Lets make sure she never finds out about the leg, hey?"

"Agreed."

* * *

 **Word Count** **:** 3,400. Yes. We've finally broken the 2,000 word barrier. The longest chapter of any of my multi-chaptered fics (obviously, I've written a few longer oneshots).

I had not intended for Mrs. Weasley to _ever_ see Ed's arm. _Ever_. But somehow she not only out-stubborned Ed, she outstubborned me. It seriously messed over my plan for this chapter - Al was supposed to get his _wand_ in this chapter - but here we are.

Tell me what you thought!


	12. Ash, an Alley, and New Allies

The Scientist's Lament

Chapter 12

Ash, an Alley, and New Allies

* * *

"Why can't we go with them to Diagon Alley, mum?" the Girl Ginger said, a certain fire in her eyes. Ed blinked. He knew from his own attempts at out-stubborning the Matron of the Red Hair that she wasn't going to back down from her decision.

"Tonks can't watch all of you, Ginevra!"

"I'm fifteen! I don't need watching!"

Ed blinked again, and began to tune out the argument as it continued. He exchanged glances with Alphonse, who was in the middle of a large helping of eggs. Said in Amestrian, "What's so special about this Diagon Alley place?"

Al shrugged, swallowed, said in the same tongue, "From what I've read, it's a big trade center here. Every wizard in Great Britain goes there from time to time."

 _What?_ "That can't be right. This country isn't _that_ small. There have to be other market places."

Al rubbed the base of his skull, swallowing down another mouth of eggs. "There are," he said. "But the largest is Diagon Alley. And I guess distance isn't a factor when you can apparate or travel by fireplace or broom."

Wizarding transportation. Ed had not gotten his mind around the fact that wizards could literally teleport. He took a bite of his own eggs and looked back up at the ensuing spat.

Ed looked at the Matron of the Red hair. She crossed her arms, said, "I won't have my children out of the wards any more times than necessary and we haven't received booklists yet."

"But-!"

"No."

The Girl Ginger flopped into the chair next to Alphonse with her arms crossed and her hair in her face. She huffed. Loudly. Suddenly an image of himself superimposed itself over her, and Mrs. Weasley morphed into the picture of Colonel Bastard. Ed snorted.

"You think this is funny, do you?" Mrs. Weasley snarled, glaring at him. "You're going to get yourself killed with that attitude."

"Eventually," Ed said. "Kind ov amazing zat I'm not dead yet."

"Brozer," Al said. "Don't say zat."

Ed wasn't done. "But zere are reasons zat I'm still alive," he said. " I am serious vhen I need to be."

"Oh really?" Matron of the Red Hair said. Ed huffed. Hadn't he nearly attacked her when they met?

"I vill corroborate zat," Al said. "He has good instincts and zey haff kept us both alive."

Mrs. Weasley had a mulish gleam in her eye that spoke to both determination and a deep seated fear. She took a bite of her own plate of eggs, chewed, swallowed. "I hope that those instincts can help keep the children of Hogwarts alive, even if you're almost a child yourself."

Ed nodded. "I vill do my best." Experience had taught him that he couldn't save everyone, but he was still damn well willing to try.

"Does this mean you're willing to count Ed as able to watch me in Diagon Alley?" Ginny said, having followed the conversation closely, brown eyes wide and curious.

" _Nein_ ," Ed said. "Not knowing zee terrain vill hinder me greatly. If Frau Veasley is unwilling to let you go alone vis Tonks? My skills von't make zee situation better enough to make a difference."

Ginny was just opening her mouth to fire out a retort when there was a sound knocking on the door.

"Who is it?" Mrs. Weasley called.

"It's me!" Tonks said.

Mrs. Weasley seemed to have learned something since Harry's arrival, for she slid on the chain lock before opening the door only the crack that the chain would allow. She peered out, wiping her free hand nervously on her apron. "Where did we first meet?"

"That Ministry staff party Arthur brought you to three years ago," Tonks said.

"And why were you there?"

"I was in Auror training at the time."

Mrs. Weasley smiled, undid the chain, and threw open the door. "Come in, come in! Eggs are still hot on the stove if you'd like some."

"That'd be lovely," Tonks said, chin length grey hair curling up and turning rosy at the ends in pleasure. Ed shuddered. That was still an unpleasant surprise, seeing Envy's power duplicated here.

 _"Tonks!"_ Ginny said, jumping from her seat. "You can manage me tagging along to Diagon Alley, can't you?"

"Wotcher, Ginny," she said, looking both amused and puzzled. "I don't see why not."

"No," Mrs. Weasley said, heading off the budding triumphant look on Ginny's face. "No, no, no."

"Well," Tonks said. She seemed about to argue in Ginny's favor with the Matron of the Red Hair, but caught Mrs. Weasley's gimlet eye. Ed suppressed a laugh when Tonks visibly gulped, said, "I supposed that's the word, Ginny. Sorry."

"Fine," Ginny said, voice high and hard. With a swish of red hair and a slamming door, she was gone.

Ed laughed, and laughed harder when Al visibly slid down in his chair to escape the tension in the room. "Reminds me of myself at zat age," Ed said by way of explanation. He ignored Al's answering cold stare that said _You were her age last_ year _, brother._

So what?

Was he mentally and emotionally her age last year? Ed didn't think so. Tonks laughed, but the Matron of the Red Hair huffed, putting a dish of eggs before an open chair. "Of course. She causes me enough worry that I just about believe it."

But Ed had better reasons to be head strong than Girl Ginger. He did. He stuck his nose into the air. "Anyone who vorried about me knew vat zey vere getting into."

"Vell," Al said, spoon halfway to his mouth. "I couldn't get fair varning from zee vomb."

Tonks, comfortably sitting in the chair on Ed's other side, snickered behind her hand. Ed glowered. "Vas?"

"Nothing," Tonks said. She popped a bit of bacon in her mouth, and Ed was sure it was solely for the excuse not to explain herself. The four of them ate in a silence broken by vigorous chewing all around - Mrs. Weasley was an excellent cook, and Ed had to admit, whatever hocus pocus she did to keep the eggs hot was entirely welcome.

When the dishes were cleared and Al had taken the last of his morning potions, Tonks made an effort to chase away the last of the mirthful pink that had crept into her grey hair. "Blast," she said. "Still not back to normal."

Mrs. Weasley put a comforting hand on her shoulder and pulled a hand mirror from the air with a simple twist of her stick. Ed twitched. Even knowing that Alphonse, at least, couldn't possibly be using one in his own small attempts, Ed couldn't help but look for a small red stone to fuel the trick. He watched with measured suspicion when the mirror was handed to Tonks and she screwed up her face with effort.

It took her five minuets to get back the soft salt-and-pepper she was going for, to bring crows feet to her eyes, lines about her mouth and arms. Tonks handed the mirror back to the Matron of the Red Hair, and with another bit of stick-work, the hand mirror was gone.

Ed shuddered. _Energy and matter cannot be created nor destroyed._ The words wound through his head in a loop; a soothing mantra for his scientific soul. _Nothing can be gained without giving up something of equivalent value in exchange._ Didn't Ed know that to be true? Weren't those the words he'd lived by since the failed transmutation of his mother?

So intently did he stare at the air from which the hand mirror disappeared, he didn't notice Alphonse and Tonks stand until they were waiting by the fireplace.

" _Bruder_?" Al said. "Are you zere? Vake up."

Ed blinked, and Tonks gave him a grimace-smile. "Wotcher, Ed. Glad to see you back among us," she said. "You got everything? Wallet?"

Ed nodded, stood from his chair in a clean motion, hands pressed to the scrubbed wooden table.

"Zank you for breakvast, Frau Veasely."

"You're welcome, Edward," she said. "Be safe."

Ed managed a small smile in the Matron of the Red Hair's direction. "I alvays try."

She nodded, stood on her toes to pull a sack from the mantle place. _Oh no_. Ed had become accustomed to seeing the Patron of the Red Hair leave by that fireplace every morning. "Thanks, Molly," Tonks said, reaching her hand into the sack. "Have either of you done this?"

"No," said Alphonse, but Ed could see excitement glimmering behind the first layer of apprehension on his brother's face.

"No," Ed said. "And I don't vant to try. I didn't sink zat your 'muggles' could vork any ov zis hocus-pocus."

"It's the powder that's enchanted for this one, Ed," Tonks said. "Won't make a difference, because it's someone else who worked the initial magic."

Ed glowered. "And vhy can't vee take a train?"

"A train?" Tonks said, eyebrows beginning a turn to an amused lilac. "That would take way too long! Why would we bother?"

"It's a better vay to travel zan zis schite," he grumbled, looking at the fireplace with disdain. Tonks laughed quietly, linked her arm through his, and focused her eyebrows back to grey.

"Watch closely, Alphonse!" she said, tossed the powder into the flames. "Diagon Alley!"

Ed was bodily pulled passed the hearth. _Why on Earth is this fire green?_ He wondered at the chemical composition of the powder - the transport he had no explanation for, but perhaps the colorful side effects could be explained - but as he and Tonks began to move, a lurching nausea began at his navel and he couldn't focus his mind away from that discomfort.

The eggs that the Matron of the Red Hair had so kindly made without milk for him were working their way back up his throat. _Stay down stay down stay down!_ And as suddenly as it all began, it was over.

He was not-so-gently deposited on a different hearth in a different building. Tonks stuck her landing, but Ed himself was not so lucky. How could anyone get used to this? He was desperately fighting to keep his breakfast down, and there was Tonks, looking just mildly green around the gills.

Ed rolled his eyes, gulped firmly, and began to stand and _wham!_ He was back on the ground, a heavy weight on his back. That weight spoke.

"Vhy vas zat so hard?" Alphonse had arrived, and did not seem to realize that he was on top of him.

"Get off!" Ed said in Amestrian.

"Oh! Brother! I'm so sorry!" Al said, all but rolling off of Ed's back. Ed grasped Al's hands, and they pulled each other up.

"Is all hocus-pocus travel zis stupid?" Ed said to Tonks. She laughed, stopped herself. Tugging at her chin length salt-and-pepper.

"Just about," she said, limiting her mirth to a wry smile. "I would've warned you, but I wasn't about to deal with you in a full-on fit."

"I do not haff fits," Ed said, sticking his nose in the air. His anger was righteous. Always. Definitely.

"Ov course you don't, brozer," Alphonse said, Ed flinched when Al put a hand on his right shoulder. Mrs. Weasley had brought about real improvements he grudgingly knew, but it was still more sensitive than his left.

"Anyvay. Zis doesn't look like a shopping center," Ed said. Now that he was present enough to be aware of his surroundings, he could plainly see that he was in some sort of pub.

"You think there are fireplaces outdoors in an open market?" Tonks said, raising a single eyebrow.

"I don't know vat you people do," Ed said.

Al shrugged. "Actually, I too vould like to know vhy vee are in a bar."

"Oh come on!" Tonks said. "Don't all those muggle fantasy books start in a seedy looking bar?"

Ed blinked. Come to think of it, they'd first woken up in this world slumped against the red-brick side of a bar in the disreputable part of Berlin! "I guess so," he said. "So. Vere do vee go vrom here?"

"This way!" Tonks said, waving both Ed and Al through. They pushed through the back door of the bar only to find another red-brick wall.

"Vat zee hell is zis?"

"Shush," Tonks said. "The entrance." She pulled her hocus-pocus stick from her grey robe and tapped the bricks on the wall in a sequence Ed was careful to memorize. He wasn't sure it would work if he did it, but maybe it was the original pocus that counted, like the powder.

He had steeled himself against further amazement and embarrassment. But he couldn't help himself. His jaw dropped to the floor when the wall folded outward from the middle, delicately molding itself into an archway.

What?

Beyond that arch was the most colorful place Ed had ever seen. The only place that even came close was Winry's Rush Valley.

"Amazing!" Al said from beside him. "No vonder Miss Ginny vanted to come so badly!"

"And this is Diagon Alley at the glummest I've seen it," she said, heaving a deep sigh.

"Glum is not zee vord I'd use." Ed put a hand to his pocket, clutched at his watch. "It is hard to believe zat zis place could be any more vibrant."

"Well. It usually is," Tonks said, heaving a sigh and beginning to walk down the busy street. If Ed was not mistaken, her salt-and-pepper turned just a tad darker - the underbelly of a storm cloud. "Come on. We've got a few places to hit up, and very little time to do it. Molly made me promise I'd say hi to her boys, so."

Her boys? Ed was not sure he could handle more children from the Band of the Red Hair, but he knew that there were a lot of them. "More ov zem?"

Tonks did not laugh. "Yes," she said. "The twins own a shop in this market. I think you'd like it."

"She has children everyvere," Ed said.

"They're a talented bunch," Tonks said. "They've mostly managed to do well for themselves."

Mostly? Ed opened his mouth to ask what she meant by mostly but was stopped by a quiet shake Alphonse's head. "Vas?" Ed said. Al's shake grew more vigorous and finally he just spoke himself.

"Vhere are vee going first, Miss Tonks?"

"Just Tonks, if you please," Tonks said. "And the bank. We need to exchange over Ed's money."

"Exchange? You people haff your own currency?"

"It came up in zee books I vas reading," Al said. "Vat vere zey called again?"

"Galleons." Tonks was unusually curt.

"Like zee Spanish ships?" Ed wasn't about to cater to her suddenly foul mood - he was going to ask his questions, even with Alphonse's elbow in his side.

"I guess," Tonks said. "Never really thought about it too hard."

Alphonse cut Ed off from saying the disparaging comment he wanted to. Al said, "Vat are zee ozer coins?"

"Knuts and sickles." Tonks pulled an example of each coin from her pocket. "Twenty nine knuts to the sickle, seventeen sickles to the galleon."

Ed took the coins from her; turned them over in his fingers. The chemical composition came to him like all things alchemical did, and he was surprised to find that the level of gold in the galleons was not reflective of their weight. "Do zey haff some sort ov your hocus pocus to make zem lighter?"

Tonks just shrugged. "Probably."

"Are you okay, Miss Tonks?" Alphonse said, and Ed decided that Al was right to do so. There was clearly something wrong with her.

She shrugged again. "As good as I've been lately," Tonks said. "Sorry if it's obvious."

"Vell," Ed said. "Var is var. You're not zee first to mourn a loss."

"Take all zee time you need," Al said - Ed felt a swelling in his chest at that, and Tonks gave a somewhat watery smile.

"Come on, the shops won't wait all day," she said and promptly led them down the bustling market, pointing out her favorite storefronts as she went.

Diagon Alley passed in a blur of fantastical colors and dubious advertisements, all narrated by Tonks's faux cheer. "And this," she said, sweeping her arms out, "is Gringotts!"

 _Enter stranger but take heed..._ "Zese bankers ov yours don't haff much ov a filter, do zey?"

"They don't," Tonks said. "Wizards take advantage of them, if they don't make themselves crystal clear."

"Zee bankers aren't vizards, zen?"

"No," Tonks said. "Of course not. They're goblins, what else?"

"Goblins?" Al said. "Zey came up a few times in zee books."

"Vat are zey?"

"Might be easier just to show you," Tonks said, and pushed open the great oak doors of the bank. When the front desk came fully into view, Ed's heart dropped to his stomach.

He had not fought for the freedom of Amestris just to face those self same problems here. He had _not_.

"Vat monster did zis to zem?" Ed said, demanding.

"No, brozer," Al said. "No one transmuted zem!"

"I'm not following," Tonks said. "They're goblins, Ed."

"It's like zee creatures in zee books I vas telling you about," Al said. Vaguely, Ed remembered wondering what fantasy novel had vomitted all over this universe, but in the place of the goblins, he had a very hard time not seeing Nina. Not seeing the other chimeras that had subsequently suffered.

"I am supposed to believe, zen," Ed began. "Zat zis is simply zeir natural biology?"

"What else would it be?" Tonks said. "Anyway, you exchange your money over at the booth on the right."

Ed gulped, nodded, and counted out what money he'd been hoarding from the high school. That was the benefit, he supposed, of being kidnapped by wizards. Room and board was provided. He approached the desk.

"How may I help you?" The goblin was as malformed as Nina had been, and her desperate cries rang unbidden through Ed's mind.

"I vould like to transfer my money into zee vizard currency."

"What currency do you have now?" The goblin pushed his spectacles up his long pointy nose; he did not seem to be in pain.

"Pounds," Ed said, handing over the pile of bills. The goblin counted out the bills with nimble fingers - there was no slow lumber of agony.

"I will be back," the goblin said, disappearing behind a swinging door. He came back not three minuets later with a hefty looking sack. "Do you have a rough idea of the way it works?"

"One vitch explained it to me," Ed said, gesturing at Tonks. "But a clearer explanation vould be sehr gut."

"Wizards," the goblin said, voice dripping with derision. "They don't understand money. You want to know something? You come to us, you understand. No need to associate with them more than you have to."

"You can tell zat I am not one?" Ed asked, hair antenna unfurling a full inch in bemusement.

"You don't seem stupid," the goblin said. "It would be an insult, to mistake you for what you aren't."

"Vat is your name?" Ed asked, laughing. "I like you."

The goblin smirked. "Nyorok," he said. "And you are?"

"Nice to meet you, Nyorok. I am Edward Elric," Ed said, thrusting out his right hand. "Call me Ed."

Nyorok nodded, handed over the sack of hocus-pocus-money. With the clipped tones of efficiency, Nyorok explained the system the currency followed, and the exchange rate - going over how it compared to both pounds _and_ euros, something Ed appreciated immensely.

Nyorok explained all those inconsistencies that Tonks had never wondered about - how it was _goblin_ magic that enabled the lighter weight of solid gold. How the coins would never loose their shine or chip or wear away. How their very qualities were _designed_ to prevent runaway inflation.

Tonks and Alphonse stood awkwardly in the backdrop, but fuck 'em, Ed decided. For the first time since he'd found himself mixed up in this hocus pocus nonsense, someone saw fit to give him unfiltered answers to his questions.

He left the bank with many of his fears assuaged - wizards may all be crazy, but there were others mixed up in their sphere of influence. And those others hadn't lost their minds yet.

"Vat next?" Alphonse was the first to ask.

"The booklists haven't arrived, and the Weasley's get good deals because they buy in bulk. So I would wait on their trip for everything except the wand," Tonks said. "Ollivander's is back by the Leaky Cauldron, so if you two can come back around this way..."

On the walk back up, Tonks ran a commentary on the people they passed in the street. "Rogers buys every stupid fake amulet on the market ... Johanson _sells_ every dodgy amulet on the market. Lots of people buying those lately. Keeps us aurors more busy than it should ... oh and there's Mrs. Figg. She breeds cats. She's probably selling more dodgy kneazle kittens as we speak."

"Kittens?" Al said, hope brightening his voice.

"Oh no," Ed said.

"You know," Tonks said. "Kittens. Like baby cats. Well. Baby kneazle-cats in this case."

"I know vat a kitten is," Alphonse said, craning his neck for a better view.

"No," Ed said in Amestrian. "No cats, Al. If hopping around our country was too hectic to own a cat, hopping between universes makes it an even more definite no!"

The tips of Tonks's grey eyebrows went a tickled pink. "Mrs. Figg's cats are very reasonably priced."

"Vee may yet go home to Germany!" Ed said. "It vouldn't be fair to zee cat!"

Tonks heaved a sigh. "S'pose your brother's right on that one, Al."

Al's brows crunched together. "He alvays is." Ed knew that he was right on this score, and thus stuck his nose into the air. As much as he wanted Alphonse to have his dream pet, it would have to wait until they were home and Al had a clearer idea of where he might want to settle down.

Tonks maneuvered so that she was between them; Ed flinched when her hand landed on his delicate right shoulder. A new abscess was rising to the surface of his skin. It was sore, but not quite ready to be excavated by the deft hands of the Matron of the Red Hair just yet.

"Ollivander's is just this way," she said, pushing both Ed and Al forward at a brisk march. He glowered at her over his shoulder, but her grip and pressure was firm. And besides, he wanted to get away from the kittens - a physical manifestation of all of the things Ed had been completely unable to provide Al with - as quickly as possible.

"Zat is zee stick maker, yes?" Ed said. Tonks hummed her agreement, but said no more. For just as he asked the question, they pulled up before a store so labeled. And clear even from the window, the magic sticks were their sole ware.

"How about you two go in together?" Tonks said. "Tradition to go it alone, it is. But I don't see Ed having another opportunity to witness this. And Mr. Ollivander is an experience, to say the least. Have fun."

Tonks all but shoved Ed through the door after his brother - Al had needed no prompting to rush the door. A hush settled over Ed when the door closed, the atmosphere rivaled the old dusty libraries of Amestris but had none of their calm. Ed didn't quite know what to make of it.

The feel of the room made it clear; this world held the same reverence for magic that Ed's held for science and knowledge.

"Is anyone even here?" Alphonse said quietly in Amestrian.

"There must be," Ed said in the same. "The sign was flipped to open."

"True," Al said, then switched to English. "Hello?"

Ed had noticed that Al's accent was changing to match the locals. That was another thing Ed didn't know what to do with. His accent was staying stubbornly in place, thank you _very_ damn much.

There was an abrupt rattling sound and Ed found himself sliding into a stance, hands pressed together. At his side, Ed felt Al move into place, ears pricked.

"Oh my," said the reedy voice of an old man. With him had appeared the source of the noise; the Old Man had come into view on a sliding ladder. His perch gave the old man the advantage of higher ground, but the frailness of his limbs had Ed sliding back into place.

"Sorry," Ed said, feet now together but knees still ready to spring. He eyed the floor, feeling out it's chemical composition and envisioning the darts he _totally wasn't_ about to pull from the floor. He'd not been planning to do so anyway.

Really.

It wasn't part of any of Ed's plans, anyway. The old man gave Ed and Al a small smile that made Ed's insides churn. Old Man, in a quivering and gentle voice, said, "I don't suppose you're here for a wand?"

"Zat is vhy I'm here," Al said from next to Ed - Al's own smile seemed tentative, but it was there.

"While I'm glad to help any young wizard switch from Gregorovitch to Ollivander, I must ask. Whatever happened to your first one?"

"Gregoro-vat?" Ed asked, unable to quite contain himself.

"Zis is my first vand, actually," Alphonse said apologetically, kicking Ed in the shin. "I'm a little late to zee game, Mr. Ollivander."

"Well, I'm glad to see continental wizards buy from the very best, as opposed to just supporting your own countrymen."

Well then. Ed wasn't about to get into a nationalist pissing match over a country he only pretended to call home. Let alone in a culture that had no place for him.

"Not zis Grego-person's vault vee happened to relocate to zis country."

"Oh," Ollivander said, pushing his glasses up his knobbled nose and perhaps looking a little disappointed. "Well, I'm always happy to provide one's first wand."

Ed had to try very hard not to scoff. _Provide my ass_ , he thought. With the price of these damn sticks, it was more along the lines of highway robbery. Old Mustache drew his own stick from his sleeve, and with a flick, tape measures began to invade Al's personal space.

Perhaps par for the course, Ed felt a protectiveness rear its head. One step, two steps, and he was reaching for the measuring tape that had pulled itself the distance of Alphonse's nose. But even as he extended his arm to pull off those tapes, Old Mustache Man appeared before him with a sound like a gunshot.

He pulled his punch just in time.

Ollivander was surprisingly unruffled. "I need the information," he said. "It often ends up having a great deal to do with wand length and speciality."

"Vhy is it zat your vizard hocus pocus _schisse_ is alvays so damn schtartlink?" He could feel himself loosing his grip on his English - the day had been to a moment overwhelming and Ed just wanted to be sitting in his dear Amestrian libraries.

"Magic can be difficult for people like you to accept," Ollivander said. A muscle in Ed's neck clenched.

"Vat, _Muggles?"_ Ed said, spitting the word.

"Well," Ollivander's mustache trembled. "For some muggles, yes. But I meant scientists. Academics."

Ed felt the fight leave him in a great _whoosh_. Deflated, he looked over at Al who was so mesmerized by the floating measuring tapes that he'd not even spared the exchange a glance. "Oh."

"Why don't you wait outside," Old Mustache said. And for once in his life, Ed didn't want to argue. Especially not with these crazy wizard people.

"Vine," he said, paused. "If _mein bruder_ is even remotely harmed by any of zis, zere vill be hell to pay."

"I know, son." Ollivander said. "I would expect no less."

Ed nodded. "So long as we are agreed."

Ed flinched when Mustache put a hand on his shoulder, gently guiding him away from Alphonse and towards the door. "It may take awhile. There may be explosions. Please don't be alarmed."

"Explosions?" Ed said. "Vas?" But Ollivander was strong for such an old man, and Ed found himself shoved out of the door to spend the longest hour and a half of his life.

After an hour of pacing, Ed became aware of a heavily disguised Tonks hiding in the background. He ws careful not to look too closely. If she was determined to lurk, Ed would let her. But he wouldn't give her anything suspicious to work with, damnit.

So he continued to pace - even when the movement began to pull uncomfortably at his automail port and when his metal leg began to weigh heavily on his left hip. But he'd walked further before, walked till he was sure it would fall off and even further than that. It had never failed him, and it wasn't about to do so now.

He kept pacing.

Even through the thick draperies over the windows, Ed could see blinding bursts of colored light and hear explosions. At one terrifying moment, the windows exploded outward; it was all Ed could do to duck to avoid the shrapnel.

When the glass finished falling, Ed bolted for the door, only to run into thin air. Literally like it was a god damn concrete wall. He shouted curses at the top of his lungs in Amestrian, everything from the tip of Ollivander's nose to the soles of his boots were assigned profanity at random. When it became clear that his cursing would yeild no results, Ed paced again.

For an additional twenty minuets Ed paced. He paced up and down the cobbled stretch before the shop until Alphonse came out of the door, a big smile on his face and seemingly unhurt.

"Are you okay, Alphonse?" Ed said in Amestrian, clasping his hands over his brother's shoulders and inspecting him for damage.

"I'm fine," Al said in the same. "Apparently there are always theatrics in the wand getting process."

"That is such bullshit," Ed said.

Al smiled patiently in a way Ed did not quite appreciate, said, "Would you pay up, brother?"

Ed scowled, nodded. Because what else could he do? Alphonse waved him inside the shop, but stayed outside himself.

When Ed looked to the shop, it showed no evidence of the many explosions he had heard, there was Mustache, standing calmly behind the counter. Their eyes locked, and Ed would be damned if he were the first to look away. "Ash, sturdy and a full and unusual fifteen inches. Phoenix feather for the core. Definitely favors transfiguration work, but also demonstrates an enjoyment of charms. An excellent wand."

"Vouldn't you vant all of zee wands you make to be excellent?" Ed asked, eyeing the long thin box on the table warily.

"The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Elric," Mustache said, picking the box up off of the table. "An excellent wand will only ever choose an excellent wizard. I need to have stock for the bottom line."

"You talk like zese vands of yours are alive."

"They are," Ollivander said, "In their own sort of way."

Ed's mind when straight to soul bonding, but Mustache - with his eerily penetrating gaze - shook his head. "Magic leaves a mark on things, Mr. Elric," he said. "And wands are the most magical item most wizards will ever own. Creation leaves a sort of consciousness, and with continued use that consciousness only gets more acute."

Ed was about to cry bullshit, but Ollivander said the only thing that could stop him from doing so. "It works in the same way that usage of intense alchemy leaves its own mark. It's left its mark on you. On the item who's life pulses in your pocket."

"How vould you know about zee vatch?"

Mustache smiled. "It is an amplifier, is it not?" Ed nodded and Ollivander turned the wand box over in his hands. "I'm rather in the business of amplifiers."

"Zat is one vay of putting it."

"Well," Ollivander said, handing Ed the wand. "That'll be eight galleons, I do believe."

Mustache shrugged when Ed's jaw dropped. He shook his head, swore, pulled the eight galleons from his bag, and wondered just how much of Alphonse's other things he would have to buy used and from bargain shelves.

Ed extended a hand for a shake, Mustache took it. "If you would like to hear more on magical theory, young man, come back. I would be more than happy to talk with someone who is legitimately interested."

They shook hands, and Ed felt Mustache press a piece of parchment into his hand.

Ed blinked. Was Ollivander offering him access to his research? "Thank you," he said. "I'll be teaching Alchemy at Hog vatever, but I vill take you up on zee offer vhen I have zee time."

Ollivander nodded, and Ed was struck with the thought that Mustache probably already knew what his deal was. How far Dumbledore's network reached, Ed was not sure. There was something about Mustache that Ed found himself liking. _You can't trust him, Ed. No matter how much you might want to._

Ed gave Ollivander a tight smile, took his leave.

* * *

 **Word Count** : 5566

The longest chapter we've had yet! Again. They may just keep growing. Who else is surprised by Ed's tentative friendship with Ollivander? I sure as hell am.

Up next we've got the twins. Gearing myself up for _that_ characterization.

I thought long and hard about Alphonse's wand. Part of the reason of this chapter's delay, actually. (In addition to this summer being all sorts of crazy and upsetting.) But the decision was made today. If any of you have anything to say about the wand I chose for him/not actually showing the wand-buying experience, leave it in your review and I'll pm you about why I made the decisions I made in regards to it.


	13. A Wand, a Cat, and Defensive Magic

**Author's Note** **:** I'm baaack _._ I've officially changed my major to Writing and Rhetoric, since I last worked on this. So with any luck, my writing will continue to improve. Will I still be using it for fanfiction? Heck yeah. Thanks for tuning in, everyone.

 **Disclaimer** **:** WolfishMoon doesn't own Hiromu Arakawa's _Fullmetal Alchemist_ nor J.K. Rowling's _Harry Potter_. She never claims the contrary, and makes no money from the online publication of this free-to-read fanwork.

* * *

Chapter 13

A Wand, A Cat, and Defensive Magic

* * *

In all of his years of wand matching, this was perhaps one of the oddest experiences Garrick Ollivander ever had. Young Mr. Elric had at first seemed to require a mid-length wand of apple. And then perhaps of acacia. He'd tried all core combinations with both. He'd decided that unicorn hair was probably best, and was entirely certain that apple, ten and one half inches, with unicorn hair would be the ticket.

But the attempted connection was disastrous – windows exploded outward and everything. Ollivander had gotten used to wand theatrics. Broken lamps were par for the course. But the front windows shattering outward onto the pedestrians before his shop? It wasn't unheard of, but it wasn't usual. And as he got older, he'd gotten better with wand pairing.

Generally his own experience got him close enough to avoid any horrendous mismatches.

It was at this point where Ollivander would use legilimency on any eleven year old. If he was careful, he could avoid being too intrusive and get a better read on the child in question. But something gave him pause, here.

Perhaps it was because Dumbledore explicitly asked him to read this child's mind. Or maybe it was the haunting he was beginning to notice in the child's eyes, when exhaustion from magical exertion began to take enough of a toll for the act to drop.

For the sake of the pairing, he told himself. He could lie to Dumbledore, if he decided he didn't want to be in on whatever scheme his old colleague was trying to rope him into.

What he saw in Alphonse's mind did not help him immediately. It knocked him on his butt before it did. Faces and places and white-outed spaces demonstrated themselves. Ollivander was a master at legilimency – young Alphonse did not even notice the intrusion. It was a much deeper than usual intrusion, to boot.

I am God. I am Truth. I am you.

A blonde girl with a wrench. An older blonde woman in military dress with massive muggle firearms. A man in the same uniform marched through the tendril of magic that connected their minds, pulling white gloves over his hands.

There were more. They came through and they fought each other and themselves. When Ollivander broke eye contact, there was one image that lasted. An image of the elder Elric brother, mid argument with a small girl who seemed of East Asian descent, who wore clothes in a fashion Ollivander thought might be Chinese.

The affection for both individuals was clear, but the sad nostalgia attached to the image was almost too much to bear.

He went off to get the next wand, and the instant he was out of young Alphonse's sight Ollivander gripped at the shelf beside him, knuckles white. It was a long time before he felt ready to face him with the next wand.

Finally, the massive ash and phoenix feather wand was the right one. A boy who seemed so very timid at first required the wand of a warrior. As Ollivander watched the bond between wizard and wand form, he was certain that Dumbledore would hear of none of this. Already, the excuses formed themselves. He simply wouldn't tell Albus any of it. None.

* * *

When Ed walked out of Ollivander's, Al's wand fully paid, he was greeted to a grinning Alphonse, a smug Tonks, and a loudly meowing kitten that looked a great deal like Mei's damn panda. Except in that it was clearly a kitten.

"So zis is vhy you skulked about instead ov just coming up and vaiting vis me?" Ed said.

Tonks laughed. "That and you were just so focused on pacing that I didn't want to interrupt you!"

Part of Ed wanted to march Al and Tonks right back up to that cat seller and return the thing, but the happiness in Alphonse's eyes gave him pause. Where would the kitten go, when they were done with this whole debacle? Who would care for it?

But Ed would have a teacher's room. And not once since Al's restoration had they slept more than twelve feet from one another. That was more by necessity than by choice, to be true. But the point still stood. Perhaps owning the pet that Alphonse had always wanted would ease the transition.

They would find a new owner for the cat when the time came. Hadn't Al earned the right to be a little selfish?

Ed didn't say any of that reasoning, but he nodded. Ed had not known that Al's grin could get any wider than it had been. He was wrong, apparently.

"Tonks says she's part kneazle!" Al said. "She can tell who's trustworthy und who's not!"

"No vonder it likes you so much," Ed said.

"Nearly bit me," Tonks said. "But I'm an auror, so I think being a little dodgy is part of the job."

Ed laughed and extended his hand for the little scrap of a thing to sniff. The cat was wary, but let Ed give it a scratch behind the ears. It clearly liked the scratch, but its eyes did not leave Ed's and it firmly turned away from him when he withdrew his hand.

"It's your girlfriend in miniature, Al."

Al squeaked. "Mei is _not_ my girlfriend!"

"Still her in miniature," Ed said. "Anyvay. I guess zat I'm a 'little dodgy' myself."

Tonks shot him a wry smile. "Well," she said, changing the subject. "Let's see the wand!"

"It's made ov ash," Alphonse said, letting the kitten claw its way onto his shoulder so that he could take the wand box from Ed. Al was so excited that his hands trembled as he pulled the wand from its box.

Tonks whistled. "That is _some_ wand," she said. "Don't think I've ever seen one that long."

Al shrugged. "Mr. Ollivander said somezing about a generous personality? Core is phoenix feather."

"Wow," Tonks said. "I'm damn impressed."

Alphonse blushed, and Ed could not help but fondly ruffle his hair. "He's alvays been better zan me."

Alphonse muttered some sort of denial to the statement, but Ed ignored it. Alphonse _was_ a better person than him – kinder. And maybe he tended to lag behind a bit when it came to Alchemy, but they first studied when they were young enough that a year was a big difference. On that score, Ed started with a rather large advantage.

Ed couldn't quite understand why a stick had to vary – a stick was a stick was a stick, after all – but he was not surprised that Alphonse would be worthy of a good one. Satisfied by Alphonse's expression, and perhaps a little unnerved by just how natural the wand looked in his hand, Ed turned back to Tonks.

"Vat next?"

"Molly wanted us to go check in on her boys," she said.

"Right," Ed said, shaking his head. How one woman had so many children was beyond him – he could not fathom how one woman could have that many.

In the background he could hear Mustang smirk about gaps in his knowledge of biology but Ed ignored it. Colonel Bastard was condescending enough in person – he didn't need to be generating self-burns in his voice.

"Let's go zen!" Alphonse said, energy apparently returned to him in spades. "Vat kind of shop is it?"

Tonks smiled the first genuine smile Ed had seen on her face all day. "You'll love it," she said, and somehow Ed believed her. "It's not far. You'll be able to see it way before we get there."

She wasn't wrong on that score. The building was a garish bright magenta that Ed could see two blocks down. Unlike anywhere else in the alley, laughter swarmed the place – it put an extra kick in Tonks's step.

"Wow," Alphonse said, clutching the kitten close to his chest. Ed guffawed at the sign on the door.

"Molly is quite sure they'll get themselves killed," she said. "But in the meantime, welcome to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, boys." Tonks swept the door wide open and the color and noise suddenly assaulted Ed from all angles. He rushed through the doorways, out of the horrendous summer heat, and laughed more soundly than he had in a long while.

"You alright, mate?" He could hear the Molly in the voice and knew without looking that this was one of her 'boys.'

"I'm vine," he said.

"Zis is amazing!" Alphonse said. "I vish zere vas somesing like zis in Amestris!"

"Don't you mean Berlin?" Ed said in German, and Al gave him a sheepish smile. Thankfully, no one seemed to note the slip, and Ed allowed himself to actually turn his attention to the boy who asked after him.

For a moment, he thought he was seeing double – finally the bizarre wizarding world had gotten him dizzy enough – but no. Tonks did say twins.

"Well," said one.

"We're Weasley and Weasley," said the other.

"Gred and Forge, nice to meet you."

There was something off about the names, but Ed was to amazed to care. "Edward Elric," he said.

"And I'm Alphonse!"

"Wotcher, Fred, George."

"Tonks!" said one, recognizing her more from the catchphrase than her face. "Didn't know you were back out and about!"

"Buzz of," she said. "Business still has to be taken care of."

Both boys nodded, and turned to Ed and Al. "So I take it you're the ones our mum's been fattening up, as late."

Alphonse flinched, and Ed wondered if the wording was purposeful.

"Don't worry," said one, "You'll work it off again at Hogwarts."

"One summer Harry put on a full stone cause of her!" said the other.

Ed relaxed. They were just referencing Molly's tendency towards generosity, then. Had she perhaps not mentioned their respective states, then? Ed hadn't expected discretion, but he was glad for it.

"Feel free to look around, and don't let the cat eat a pygmy puff. They're mildly toxic to most predator species."

Pygmy puffs? Ed was about to ask, but the twins were gone and also so was Tonks. Order business, was it? Surely Ed had a goddamn right to sit in on whatever meeting they were having! But for the life of him he could not trace their trajectory through the crowd.

"I vonder if zis stuff is allowed in zee school," Alphonse said, holding up a Daydream Charm. "Looks like a lot ov it is designed for getting out ov lessons."

"Who knows," Ed said, switching into Amestrian. "Either way, I bet many kids are sneaking stuff in."

But even Alphonse was gone, when Ed craned his head to look, Al was cooing over small balls of fluff. Oh no. Alphonse already got a cat today. He did not need a bouncing ball of fluff. Just no.

The kitten on Alphonse's shoulder seemed to be looking at them like some sort of snack, and Ed remembered the warning.

He walked over to his brother. "Careful," he said. "I think these are the things that the twins warned about."

"Oh right," Al said, lifting the kitten off his shoulder and cradling it. "There we go. Now she can't pounce."

"Just keep a good grip on her," Ed said. "You don't have any armor to trap her in."

"I know!" Al said, beaming. Ed wasn't sure if Al understood the slight jab and chose to ignore it, or if the elation of finally owning his own cat was blocking his burn-o-meter. "It's so good to actually feel cat fur again!"

Definitely the later then. Alright. "Should we figure out where Tonks went?" Ed said.

"Don't be paranoid, brother."

"Fine then. Keep cooing over the toxic balls of fluff."

"Good luck!" The sing-song tone of Al's voice was almost offensive, but Ed managed to move on with just a sniff.

Ed's eyes darted around the shop; each display called him more than the last and by the time he reached the back of the store he was practically itching to investigate the itch powder. Exactly who's underwear he'd put it in he was not sure, but somebody probably had it coming.

"So who exactly are they?" Unless Ed was very much mistaken, that was the voice of one of the twins. He tore his eyes from the itch powder and crept up to the luxurious maroon curtain that veiled the speaker.

"One of them was Hermione's chemistry teacher. Whatever that means," said Tonks "We thought he was suspicious, so we brought them both to the Burrow and found out that they were harmless and that the younger one was a wizard."

"Mum said that much in her letters," said the other twin.

"We were hoping you'd give us more information."

"Honestly?" said Tonks. "I'm not quite sure what their story is. Just that they're very close and that the older one will be teaching alchemy at Hogwarts for the sake of staying near Alphonse."

There was a long silence, and Ed found himself hard pressed not to creep closer to the curtain – any closer and they would know he was there, for sure.

"Well," said one twin. "Now I'm jealous. The last time alchemy was offered at Hogwarts, we were first years!"

"Ask Hermione for notes? She'll probably take it."

"We might just," said the other twin. "And you really don't know anything else about them?"

Tonks paused, and it seemed to Ed that there were eons in the silence. "They're fidgety," she said. "They remind me of Mad-eye some times and I don't see how such young boys could."

"So they're paranoid."

"And Constant Vigilance is their motto."

"Just about," said Tonks. "Don't think they ever let their guard down, and they spar every single morning."

Again there was a long silence, and again Ed felt the urge to rip down the curtain and see what their body language implied about the silence. Again, he refrained.

"And Dumbledore trusts them?"

"Enough to let them in the school," said Tonks. "Enough to not throw too much of a fit if he knew I left them unattended for short periods. I think."

"Then they're welcome in our shop!" The twins said that in unison and Ed could not help but shudder. These people put way too much trust in Albus Dumbledore and it was blinding them. But in this instance, it worked in Ed's favor so he wasn't about to complain.

"So," said Tonks, clearly about to change the subject. "Tell me more about this new defense line of yours."

"Ah!" Began one of the twins. "You've seen our shield hats, of course, now that they're standard issue."

"But we've got a few more gizmos we haven't handed over just yet."

Now that they weren't talking about him, Ed had a few options. He could retreat back into the depths of the store or he could walk into their conversation now – as though he'd only just found them."

"This is the Darkness Powder, so you can get away under cover." That decided it.

"Hallo?" Ed ventured quietly. "Tonks?"

"Oh!" said Tonks, whipping back the curtain. "How long have you been here?"

That was subtle. Not. "Just valked up, Alphonse vas cooing over zee puff balls, and I got a little bored."

"He's being careful about the cat, right?" said one twin. "They're technically miniature puffskeins, and while we managed to breed the venom out of them…"

"Zee poison not so much," said Ed. "You did say. He's being careful."

Ed did not ask the question that was therefore burning – What was a regular puffskein, and why in the hell was it venomous? He would have asked, but Tonks spoke before he had the chance. "I think you'll like this stuff, Ed."

"It's our new defense line," said one twin.

"We're even selling to the Ministry now, because apparently there isn't any baseline defense training."

"Can't even perform a shield charm."

What kind of government didn't arm its employees? He knew that England didn't run their country through the military, but to not have any defense training as a government employee was ridiculous. "Zey don't even have zee basics?"

"Nope," said the first twin.

"I s'pose our education got a little expanded, because of all this You-No-Poo business, but it was rather a – "

"You-No-Poo?" Ed said. "I sink zat is my favorite name for zis veirdo yet!"

"Right?" said Twin Two. Now, Ed was certain he could tell them apart. It was in the way they carried their shoulders and shuffled their feet. They were some of the most minutely similar twins he had come across, but there it was in their stance, plain as day. "I don't get why people who don't want to say 'is name are so attached to the name they gave him."

If only he could remember their names!

"He's a real threat," said Tonks. Her hair was drooping again and the twins exchanged a meaningful glance.

"But people will always need laughter!" Twin Two said.

"And they will always want to laugh about their troubles."

Tonks gave them a half hearted smile and Ed wanted to know what exactly had made her like this. The twins looked both confused and resigned and Ed knew that it had to be recent, whatever it was. "We should probably be getting back to Alphonse."

"Zat is true. Leave him long enough and he vill collect more cats zan just zee one you gave him."

That Tonks laughed at. "Does he really?"

"Really. I left him to his own devices vor fifteen minutes once and vhen I got back he had five ov zee little suckers curled up on his lap."

"Let's go make sure he hasn't tried to adopt the pygmy puffs then." Tonks pulled pack the magenta curtain and stepped through it.

Ed looked first at her retreating back and once again at the twins. "I vill be teaching alchemy at zee school," he said. "Viz my first pay I think I vill buy some ov your defense line."

The twins shifted into business mode. "What are you thinking you'd like?" One of them asked, turning to the merchandise he'd just displayed for Tonks.

"However much I can afford. I vill work out zee details vhen zee time comes. But I would like to include a physical defense section in my class."

"What?"

"A physical defense section?"

"Zee woman who taught me taught me vell," Ed said. "'To train zee mind one must first train zee body.' Zat philosophy brought me far and I don't see much ov it in you vizards."

The twins paused. "That's all well and good, mate. But what does it got to do with our defense line?"

"I vould like to provide my schtudents vis zee means to protect zemselves, if zey are unable to do so through zeir own power."

"Seriously?" said Twin One.

"That's a lot of product," said Twin Two.

"Maybe we could work out an educator's deal for you."

"Zat vould be appreciated," Ed said, the gestured to Tonks. "Vat is her deal?" Ed recognized the irony in the question. He'd eavesdropped on them because he did not want to be talked about, but her he was.

The Twins shrugged in a creepy unison. "She used to be an avid prankster," said Two.

"Still is, sometimes," said One.

"But she's not been the same since Bellatrix killed Sirius."

"Blames herself, I reckon."

"Mum would know for sure?"

The guess made a lot of sense to Ed. "People die," he said. "And you cannot blame yourself."

"We won't," said Twin One. "I won't." Twin Two simply nodded.

"Tell me your names one last time? I sink I can tell you apart now. But vor zee life of me I can't remember."

"George," said One.

"Fred," said Two.

George and Fred. Maybe Ed could remember that. Their names were astonishingly bland for two so very unsubtle people. "Thanks," he said, before pulling back the curtain and searching for the old woman that Tonks was pretending to be.

Spotting her, Ed nodded briefly at the Twins One and Two and followed her. She was heading towards Alphonse, who had moved on from the poisonous puff balls to the Daydream Charms. Alphonse looked up from the boxes at his and Tonks's approach. "Brother," he said in Amestrian. "Everything in this room is designed to get a student out of class!"

"I'll be keeping an eye out, for damn sure."

"You're gonna be a great teacher, brother," Al said. "Any students worth teaching won't zone out."

Ed scoffed, he was still teaching remedial Chemistry, and if it had taught him anything was that perfectly bright students often sabotaged their own success. "I think you're being a bit optimistic, Al."

"At least Hermione will pay attention?" Al said. Well. That was true. He shrugged. At this he noticed that Tonks intended to stay with them. Whoops. She had entered the 'nod and smile' portion of misunderstanding.

"Sorry," he said, switching to English.

"Don't bother yourself about it," Tonks said. "If I were in your situation, I'd be pretty fed up with the local language."

Ed wasn't sure whether he ought to be offended or obliged. He settled on a mixture of both. He knew that his mastery over English wasn't perfect, but it was good enough to teach Chemistry, with technical terms included. And he did rather damn well at it.

He decided to change the subject. "Vee vere talking about how many ov zees products I vill haff to confiscate zis year," he said. "Al seemed to think zat I am a good enough teacher to keep zee students in thrall."

"He really is," Al said. "Zee people in his remedial class are actually going to pass zis time."

"In any case," Ed said, a wicked grin stretching over his face. "I don't imagine zat people who regularly tune out ov my Alchemy lessons can really expect to pass."

"So you're planning on being a hardass, are you?" asked Tonks.

"Our teacher was a hardass," said Ed. Both he and Al shuddered in unison. "Comparatively? If our education vas camping in zee voods alone vis nozing but a knife and the instruction to survive, my class vill be a valk in zee park."

Tonks clearly thought he was making a metaphor and began to laugh. "True story, actually," Alphonse said. "Teacher had razer unorthodox mesods."

Tonks visibly paled. "She was the best influence vee efer had," Ed said. "So please don't judge her harshly. Und she vould haff called zee whole thing off iv it seemed a fatality vas imminent."

Tonks gulped, but nodded. Alphonse didn't help by adding, "I think," to the end of the statement.

Ed glared at him. Izumi Curtis was in a whole other world – there was no way she could defend herself from slander here. "Her teaching was fery effective," Ed said. "I plan on utilizing some ov her techniques."

Alphonse looked at him in surprise, and Ed shrugged, "You don't need zem for Chemistry, but Alchemy isn't Chemistry. Zey need to understand zee stakes."

Alphonse nodded, and Tonks looked confused. Ed had not yet dared to look into the Alchemy books of this world, but he knew that the understanding of the science was different. It must be difficult, Ed realized, for wizards to understand that their actions have consequences.

"Did you vant to buy anysing here, Al?" Ed asked. "We still haff a bit in zee budget."

Al looked around the room, shook his head. "It's all fery impressive, and maybe zee next time we come, but vor now I sink I am good."

Ed nodded, and the three of them plus cat made their way out of the brightly colored shop and into the open air. "Is there anysing else vee need to do?"

"I think," said Tonks, "It's time to get you two back to the Burrow."

"I do haff papers to grade," Ed said. There were only two more weeks until the end of the summer semester, and while Hermione maintained the top spot with a fervor, the other grades were rising. Ed knew that his course was rather more difficult than most remedial courses, but the delinquents weren't doing near so badly as the principal had warned.

He winced as he thought of Principal Jenkins. He would have to turn in his notice this week. With the school year looming, he knew that Jenkins was planning on letting him stay on. It wouldn't be fair to let her believe that she had a teacher in place.

"Back to the Leakey Cauldron it is," Tonks said. Ed groaned. He was _not_ looking forward to another whirl in that awful fire-transporty-thing. But Tonks paid no heed to his whining, and so the three of them – four of them? – made their way back up the alley, Tonks resuming with her faux-cheerful commentary on the people and the places.

Instead of deriding the old woman with the kneazle kittens, she waved. And judging by the friendliness of the reply, Ed knew that this woman had been the breeder of the kitten that sat vigilantly on Alphonse's shoulder.

Hadn't Tonks described the kittens as dodgy? Ed frowned. He understood that dodgy was also sometimes synonymous with cheap, but if someone was going to buy a child a pet, they generally didn't go for dodgy.

He looked at Tonks sidelong. What exactly was her endgame?

Ed looked back at the kitten that sat on Al's shoulder. She was eyeing her surroundings carefully, and her icy gaze didn't spare Ed, either. He looked back at Tonks. She was still pointing out her favorite shops and people, different than the set she'd pointed out walking in the other direction. Ed decided to hold to his chest. There had to be an ulterior motive to the kitten-gift, he was sure. But at this juncture, Tonks would only deny it. And feign the offense of the innocent.

His hands were tied and he knew it.

Up ahead came the door to the Leakey Cauldron. From this side, it still looked like an arched entrance way. The stone on the Alley side was engraved with the pub's incredibly stupid name. They passed through it, and in no time at all they were dizzily spinning back to the Burrow, engulfed in green fire.

* * *

 **Word Count** **:** 4,338

Not too too much happens in this chapter, but I hope you like it all the same. Up next: Resignation. Please tell me what you thought!


	14. Resignation

_**Author's Note:**_ Hey all, long time no see! At least this gap was only about two months. Wow is college kicking my ass. We have hit our 200th review, 300th favorite, and we're kissing up on our 600th follow. Thank you everyone for supporting this fic of mine, I really appreciate every one of you. Shout out to guest reviewer Socks for being lucky number 200! (As well as 194-9 and 201, lol.) Thank you all for your encouragement and critique – never would have made it past my 12 year old sue-thor phase without y'all.

 _ **Disclaimer**_ _ **:**_ The fanfiction writer known as WolfishMoon owns neitherJ.K. Rowling's _Harry Potter_ nor Hiromu Arakawa's _Fullmetal Alchemist_. She never claims the contrary and makes no money from the online publication of this free-to-read fanwork.

* * *

Chapter 14

Resignation

* * *

Hermione loved her vine wand – the careful scrollwork that wrapped around the piece and paid homage to the origins of the material had attracted her from the first. Even before she picked it up Hermione had known that it would be her wand, despite the otherwise arduous selection process.

When Alphonse asked to compare, eyes alight with excitement and pride, Hermione felt ready for a good session of humble-bragging. She hadn't expected Professor Elric's gentle younger brother to be a wielder of a warrior's wand. Hermione tilted her head, and made an attempt to reevaluate her opinion of the boy. "That's quite the wand," she said. All around the room, others had pulled out their own wands for Al's comparison.

"You're a proper wizard, now!" Ginny said, bopping him on the nose with her darkly stained yew wand. It was almost as long as Al's wand, but only approached the line of absurdity that Alphonse's surpassed. Alphonse grinned, and everyone in the room laughed. Even Ed seemed to be in good humor over the whole thing.

As opposed as the alchemist seemed to magic, he wasn't begrudging his brother anything. That was good. Having had no siblings herself, Hermione's model for siblinghood had been the Weasley children's endless competition.

Ron resented the success of his brothers, Hermione thought. The twins had distanced themselves from the success of their predecessors by being successful in an entirely different vein. The love was there, but the resentment was there too.

There wasn't a trace of that in the Elrics. Well. Morning spars excepted. They seemed plenty competitive then. Hermione generally avoided watching it, but Ginny stalked the proceedings with a doggedness that really shouldn't have surprised her.

Hadn't Ginny done well at the Department of Mysteries? She rather had.

"Congratulations, Alphonse," Hermione said. "The wand suits you." The wand evidently thought so, even if Hermione couldn't yet see it.

"Yeah, mate!" Ron said. "Looks bloody wicked."

"Thanks!" Alphonse said. "I can't vait to try it."

"The instant we're on the train," Hermione said. "I promise I'll walk you through some of the spells."

"Zat sounds pervect!"

"Vhy can't he try it now?" Ed asked. Hermione sighed.

"It's illegal," Harry said. "Technically, it's for safety and for the Statute of Secrecy, but honestly for no damn good reason. Ministry tried to get me expelled last year for defending myself."

"Ah," Ed said, eyebrows shooting into his hair. "Governments do a lot ov crap vor no gut reason but to furzer zeir own agenda."

Harry just nodded, and Hermione felt a twinge of pity. "Tell me about it," said Ginny. Her voice was low and angry, and she was staring at Harry with such a fierce protectiveness that suddenly her motivation to learn how to fight like a muggle was clear.

The morning after the trip to Diagon Alley found Ed back in his classroom. "Will you be coming back in the fall?" said one girl. "I know this was like a trial period for you."

Ed winced, and noticed that Hermione did too. He had yet to hand in his notice to the principal, and it wouldn't do for her to get the info from the rumor mill. He shrugged. "Vee haff yet to discuss it," he said. And that was true. The fact that the conversation had been put off for so long said much for Jenkins's complacency on the matter.

She likely hoped Ed would stay, but had not yet given up on finding someone more qualified. He couldn't blame her. Who wanted a teenager teaching teenagers when they had any other option? The Beard Principal of the Pig Fungus school was an outlier, but the more he read about the wizarding world – he shuddered at the word – the more it seemed they started out in their lives sooner than their rational counterpart.

"They'd be bloody stupid not to keep you," said another student. He'd quite helpfully written Ed an English slang dictionary for extra credit. If that was the only reason the boy was passing, Ed wasn't going to say _anything_. Al didn't know about this little booklet, and therefore couldn't hide it from him.

There was a general murmur of agreement, and Ed didn't quite know what to do with the compliments. If Al weren't an issue, he'd let the wizarding world go hang, and he would stay right here.

"I hope zey do," Ed said. He found that he meant it – he couldn't stay, but he'd rather teach these delinquents Chemistry than teach a bunch of kids too used to the instant gratification of hocus-pocus Alchemy. "Anyvay. Get to zee benches. You all haff your lab packets, right?"

Predictably, several students had forgotten them. He sighed, handed out the extras, and contemplated how much bullshit the pre-lab section of their reports would end up being. The chorus of _I did it, I swear, but my mom must've thrown it out with the mail!_ was getting old.

The three sections of his course went quickly. By the end of the day, the lecture was almost rote. But the lab was still engaging enough, he was sure. He checked his pocket watch and realized that he would have to run out of his last class if he wanted to catch Jenkins before she left. She was no more immune to Monday than anyone else, and at the beginning of the week she was marching out of the school far earlier than on any other day.

He bolted from the classroom when the bell rang, muttering his apologies to students who tried to catch his attention. "Tomorrow!" he promised, and was out of the door and down the hall like a shot.

"Come in?" said Jenkins from the other side of her oak office door when he knocked. She looked at him over her lilac-rimmed glasses frames. "What's wrong, Mr. Elric?"

He sat, although she hadn't said he could. "My brozer," he said. "He has been scouted – I suppose is zee right vord? – by a school."

"Which?" she asked, clearly expecting him to want advice as to whether or not to send him.

"It's in Scotland," he said, focusing his attention on the rough texture of the chair underneath his hands. "Und he must go. But I cannot let him go alone."

Jenkins laid her palms flat on the surface of her desk, eyes resigned. "Then I expect you've secured a teaching position there?"

Ed nodded, ignoring the knot of guilt in his stomach. "I might haff even applied to be schtudent, zere. But I don't qualify."

"Student?" Jenkins said. "Isn't Alphonse of high school age?"

Ed just stopped himself from swearing. "Vell, zat is vhy I don't qualify, ov course. Zey teach a very specialized curriculum, so I vould haff studied zere anyvay if zey allowed it."

Jenkins narrowed her eyes. "How specialized?"

"It's zee school Miss Granger goes to, in zee normal academic year," he said. "Specialized enough zat it vas not covered in my own education, but zey happen to be weak in zee sciences, so I ovvered to fill zee gaps."

Jenkins nodded slowly. "I'm not handing you over to some sort of cult, am I?"

Ed could not keep down a slightly hysterical laugh. "Nein," he said. Jenkins's eyes narrowed.

"That laugh isn't very reassuring, Mr. Elric," she said.

"It isn't a cult," he said, waving a hand in the air. "Vas my virst reaction, too, zough, ven Alphonse told me zat he vanted to go zere. I am his older brozer, and vhile I am his legal guardian I von't pretend to be his parent. He's free to make his own decisions about sings."

"You say that," said Jenkins. "But you'll disrupt your own career to make sure he makes those decisions safely."

"Vee haff followed each ozer into hell many times, Ms. Jenkins. At zis point, it's only returning zee favor."

Her gaze turned worriedly skeptical. "Following him into hell, are you? We can work out enrollment here for Alphonse, if that's a deal breaker." Perhaps comparing the Pig Fungus place to hell wasn't the best way to reassure Jenkins. Whoops.

"Cut zee shit. If you actually vanted me to schtay on, you vould haff informed me zat I vas hired vor school year a veek ago," Ed said.

"Probably," Jenkins admitted. "But the fact remains, I'm having trouble finding someone with more experience."

"If you can't vind someone more qualified, hire someone else stupidly young," Ed said. "I'm sure zat zere are ozer people fresh from school."

"Fair enough, I'll look through the applications again. Call some people for interviews." Jenkins hefted a file of what Ed presumed were applications and glared at it.

Ed knew that it wasn't ideal, but given that she already had someone underqualified, she probably hadn't bothered to review any other underqualified applicants. Jenkins put the file back down, said, "You have your final exam written, yes? Because if you need help, there should be copies of old exams for you to pull from."

"I haff zeir final practical planned," he said. "Just a few more math problems und I vill be done viz zee written." He handed her the written out copies of what he had planned. Jenkins nodded approvingly as she flipped through them.

"Are you sure I can't convince you to stay?" she asked as she turned over the final page. "These exams are refreshingly comprehensive."

"Unvortunately, no," Ed said. "But thank you vor giving me zee chance to teach zis summer. I needed zee opportunity, and I vill never forget your kindness."

"You're welcome," she said, and the conversation turned trivial as Ed packed his exam questions back into his briefcase. Since coming to this world, Ed had found more than his share of helpful people. From the librarian at the University of Berlin, to the landlord that was always patient with rent, and finally to the principal of this high school, Ed had been eased into the struggles of providing for himself and Al without a military stipend.

"Enjoy zee rest ov your day," Ed said, and gently closed the door behind him. There were only two weeks till the end of the summer semester, but from the girl who did not understand biology but was rather good at math, to the boy who would have failed if not for the slang dictionary, Ed had grown fond of his students.

He'd grown fond of his classroom, fond of the instruction bench at the fore of the room. Fond of the student benches, and the cabinets filled with more spare glassware than he'd ever seen – the students broke things regularly, and no State Alchemist lab could really afford that many spares.

He'd even taken some of those spares and set up a bench in his flat. Ed winced, realizing that he'd not paid his rent since he was kidnapped by the pocus-people. He wondered if his landlord had checked the flat yet, and what he thought about the bench that held his experiments.

 _Shit_ , Ed thought. Some of those experiments were oxygen reactive. God damn it. Well. With any luck they'd not been opened. And if they had, perhaps the fire had been contained. He walked out of the school, blinked at the sunlight.

Sitting on one of the benches was Hermione and a small child Ed could only assume was Tonks. "Wotcher," said the little girl, confirming his suspicions.

"What took you so long?"

"I had to tell zee principal I vas not going to be returning vor fall."

"Right," Granger said. "Jessica asked this morning."

"Do you mind if vee stop by my old flat?" Ed said. "I need to return my key to zee landlord and collect my stuff."

"I don't think that's a good idea," said Tonks.

"I'm also a little vorried zat my makeshift lab might have exploded."

"What?" said Hermione. "Seriously?"

"Bloody hell."

Ed shrugged. "Am scientist. Not all ov vhat I do is alchemy. I vas teachink normal chemistry und got a little curious about ozer vays to alter matter. I knew it, theoretically, ov course. But."

Granger rolled her eyes and shoved her impressive mass of hair off her shoulder. Ed ignored the impulse to stick his tongue out at her. She would have done it too, given the materials.

"Right," said Tonks. "Let's go make sure your building didn't bloody well explode. What part of London is it in?"

After a quick description of his street, and yes Tonks was familiar, the three of them embarked on the sickening lurch that was the hocus-pocus-teleportation thing. They landed in an alley just down the block, and Ed swallowed against any bile threatening to rise.

"Alvays awful," he said. "Vhy? Actually don't answer zat."

He needn't have worried, Tonks demonstrated the usual wizarding misunderstanding of the theory behind whatever they were doing, and had no answer to give other than a shrug. He decided not to turn to Granger, even if she might actually know.

"Zis vay," Ed said, turned the corner, and opened the door to his building. Around the corner from the foyer and tucked behind the stairs was the landlord's office, but he avoided that and went up to the third floor instead. Hermione and Tonks were looking around with unashamed curiosity, and Ed decided to let them rubberneck.

Nothing in his flat was particularly incriminating. It was small. There was one bedroom that he and Alphonse shared, a sparse dining room – furnished by a rickety table and some folding chairs, a kitchen with hardly enough space to turn around in, and a living room. The living room was the only space where effort was placed into the furnishing.

Bookshelves that Alphonse transmuted out of lumber lined one wall. There wasn't much in them, but they'd been planning on staying here for long enough to gain at least a bit of a library. A stone lab bench lined the other. Ed heaved a sigh of relief. Nothing had been touched.

The experiments had long since passed their time limits, so Ed didn't even bother filling out the data sheets as he carefully deconstructed each vial and separated out each vial.

"Weird seeing you use alchemy," Tonks said. "When it's not directed at me, anyway."

"Sorry," Ed said, wincing. "Iv it helps, I'm not actually completing zee process. I'm stopping at deconstruction."

"You're not using a transmutation circle," Granger said. Ed cursed, of course she'd already read up a bit.

"Don't try to copy zat," he said "Very rare circumstance, and you don't vant zee ability."

Her eyes glittered at the challenge, and Ed sighed. "No seriously. Zee cost is much more zan it is actually worth. Al and I are lucky to haff survived."

Tonks was suspiciously silent at that, and Ed instinctively knew he should not have said anything. Granger, meanwhile, nodded. There was something in her stance that made him worry, however. She wasn't going to let this go.

Rather pointedly, Ed pulled a stick of chalk out of his pocket and drew out the rest of the circles, and dismantled the rest of the vials. And also the bench. When everything was in pieces that were manageable to carry out to the dumpster, Tonks stopped him.

"If I knew you were planning on just tossing it all, I would've vanished it for you!" She waved her wand and suddenly the bench, the glassware, and the piles of unmixed chemicals were simply gone. What?

"I could haff carried zat out," Ed said.

"Why waste the time?" said Tonks. "We'll be done a lot quicker this way."

Right. The wizards didn't believe in process for process's sake. Only expediency. Which was fair. Hadn't he dismantled his lab using his own brand of shortcuts? He swore, but decided not to fight the matter any further.

He turned to the bookshelves. Alphonse had done a good job with them, and it would be a shame to dismantle them. They would be a gift to the landlord, Ed decided. Equivalence, for the shit he had to put up with from him.

But he wanted the few books he still had. Ed eyed his briefcase. He was here, so he might as well pick up his clothes. He didn't think Al would fit his, after nearly a month in Frau Weasley's care. So just his clothes and the books.

"Vat is zee food situation at zee Pig Fungus place?"

"Three meals a day," said Granger. "You can have it sent up to your room, too."

"So I don't need to haff any kitchen schtuff?"

"You should be fine?" Granger said. Ed sighed, nodded. "So. Clothes und books."

Granger lit up, and flit over to the bookcase. She eyed his briefcase, turned to Tonks. "I've been reading about undetectable extension charms, lately. I used a really basic one on my school bag last fall."

"I suppose it couldn't hurt," Tonks said.

"It would be ridiculous for a Hogwarts professor to not reap some of the benefits of magic," said Granger.

"Right," said Tonks. "I'm not so good at undetectable extension charms," she said.

"They're something of a specialty of mine." There was something dangerous in the glitter of his student's eyes. "I can walk you through it no problem."

"Alright then," said Tonks. Granger smiled, pulled out her wand, and mimicked the hand motions. This part of magic consistently left Ed confused. Why the hell would hand motions have anything to do with anything? But apparently they did. Tonks frowned. "That's not what I remember from school," she said.

"It wouldn't be," said Granger. "Incantation's the same, but I've modified the wand motions to reflect a more organized internal structure." Ed suddenly felt rather more confident in his chemistry curriculum. It wasn't just his class that the young pocus-person excelled in.

"Oh!" said Tonks. "Like my mum's spell for mixing! She added an extra twitch at the end so that the spoon digs up from the bottom."

"Sounds about right."

Tonks wilted. "I always burned the stew when I tried that one."

"Don't worry about that, then," said Granger. "Give the spell a try."

Tonks moved to work over Ed's briefcase. "Now vait a minute!" said Ed, "I nefer said you could touch my case! I don't need hocus-pocus shortcuts vor no gut reason!"

"There's a good reason, Professor," said Granger. If he wasn't mistaken, she rolled her eyes. "You're trying to rescue books. That's always a good reason."

Ed had to concede that point – books were always a good reason. He threw up his hands, and with a murmured _whatever_ , he allowed Tonks to try the spell. As she tried it, the child form she was trying to maintain aged by a year.

Ed experimentally lifted the case with his weaker arm – it was lighter. "Vere does zee extra mass efen _go?_ "

"I can go over it with you later," Hermione said, striding to the bookcase. "The library is very on brand of you. Lots of Chemistry."

"I am chemist. Sort ov."

"Still can't wrap my mind around Alchemy being a muggle science," Tonks said. "Knew it was difficult, but that's a whole different level."

Ed grinned. "It isn't so bad," he said, "You just need to use your brain."

Tonks glared at him, sensing the dig. "I got the grades I needed to be an auror, thank you."

Ed smirked, all ready with a riposte comparing her to Colonel Bastard. He bit it down - Tonks would not understand that reference, and he would be giving too much of himself away. "I'm sure."

"Anyway," said Granger, turning away from the bookcase with arms laden. "Time to pack your bags."

"Vell. It is only one bag."

Hermione and Tonks both rolled their eyes, and without too much delay, the books were put away in the bag. They were alphabetically stacked by author last name and Ed decided that he had perhaps done the Head Librarian at the University of Berlin a disservice. Clearly, the woman who had been so like Schieska was not nearly as anal as the self-proclaimed witch. Well. At least she hadn't been trying so spectacularly hard at it.

Ed highly doubted that Granger, in contrast, lived and breathed off of categorical work. But there it was. He walked over to the small bedroom he and Alphonse had shared. Both had been glad to discover futons – they had grown up sleeping in blankets in their father's study, and the futons were an inexpensive upgrade that kept them low to the ground.

Granger was clearly dismayed. "Vat?" Ed said. "Zey are cheap and comvortable. Vee grew up sleeping on zee floor of zee library. Zis is upgrade."

Neither Granger nor Tonks said anything, so Ed went to the closet and packed the extended case himself. "Don't try und organize zem by color."

"Wouldn't dream of it," said Tonks. "My mother's the only sort that bothers with that kind of packing spell. They're her specialty. Socks fold themselves and everything."

Granger looked up sharply. "I've not run into that one."

"I think my mum developed it herself, to be honest."

"Could you teach it to me?" The intensity with which Granger whirled to face Tonks left Ed rather stunned. He knew she gathered knowledge for its own sake, but a _sock_ pocus?

"I was never much good at it, can't get the socks to fold."

"Teach me anyway," she said. "It doesn't have to be perfect, but I hate folding laundry with such a passion." _Doesn't have to be perfect?_ She must really hate folding laundry, for such an abrupt change in character. Ed narrowed his eyes. What was she planning? Granger noticed the glance and hurriedly said, "I can perfect it once I know the basics."

"I s'pose," said Tonks.

"Please don't try it on my clothes," Ed said. "I vant to do zat much myself. My teacher vould kill me, iv she knew zee shortcuts I let you take vor me."

"Fine," said Granger. "I'll let you demonstrate on my Hogwarts trunk."

Tonks nodded, "Like I did for Harry last summer. I can do that."

Ed turned from the conversation to his closet. There were only a few things in it to pack. A few shirts, a few pants. There was a beige suit hanging up in the back, and he debated just leaving it there. He might have worn if for his job interview at the school, but there was no real reason to keep it now. But the part of him that had owned only what he could carry for _so long_ couldn't bear to leave it on the hangar when he had the means to carry it.

Into the bag it went, maybe he would dye it red.

"I sink I haff it all," he said. Ed peered into the bag, somehow everything he had put inside of it had organized itself. The bag had seemingly heard his comment about color, so the clothes were sorted by texture instead. _What the actual fuck?_

"If you want something from the bottom, call for it," Granger said. "Should come right up."

Ed shuddered and snapped the bag closed. "Are vee ready to go?"

"Yes," said Tonks. "If you've got everything you came here for, that is."

"I sink I do," Ed said. "I just need to talk to zee landlord, briefly. Should be in his office – he likes to get his clerical vork done on Mondays, ven he can."

"Monday is good for that," Granger said. "I like to have all the week's homework done by Monday night."

"Vas?"

"Yes! I like to work a full week ahead when I can, so I don't have to worry about the deadlines as they come."

That was quite possibly the most ridiculous thing Ed had ever heard in his life – Granger's brand of efficiency belonged in Hawkeye's wildest dreams. He wasn't even entirely sure how to respond. "You und my landlord vill get along, zen?"

Rather than continue the conversation about his student's ridiculous level of dedication, Ed waved Granger and Tonks through the door to his flat, gave it one last wistful glance, and stepped over the threshold himself. "Zee flat vas gut to us," he said. "I don't know how vee got so lucky."

"Accidental magic does exist," Tonks said. "If you really have to give yourself and explanation, it's entirely possible that Alphonse helped."

Ed wasn't sure if that explanation was better or worse than having none at all, so he shrugged before hustling down the stairs. He had a landlord to apologize to.

* * *

 **Word Count** : 4,101

Thanks for tuning in, folks! Tell me what you thought. Definitely another filler chapter, but I'm trying to get us to Hogwarts so the transition-y bits have to happen.

 _Posted 5/1/2018_


	15. A Fighting Chance

_**Author's note**_ A mere twenty one days between updates! Glory be! Anyway, we have now _officially_ surpassed the 600 follower mark, so thank you everyone. Hope you all enjoy the chapter!

 _ **Disclaimer**_ WolfishMoon does owns neither Hiromu Arakawa's _Fullmetal Alchemist_ nor J.K. Rowling's _Harry Potter_. She never claims the contrary and makes no money from the online publication of this free-to-read fanwork.

* * *

Chapter 15

A Fighting Chance

* * *

 _Dear Edward,_

 _Your thoughts on wands as amplifiers are very refreshing. Most wizards, as I'm sure you have noticed, don't have the patience to question what exactly wands do for them – and amplifying is sure enough what they are for. You are off base in that wizards are capable of doing magic without them! Those with great levels of control can use wandless magic at almost the same level of efficiency._

 _Attached to the letter I have included some conversion charts. They detail the power of a spell versus how much energy the wizard put into it with both a wand and without. In both cases you will see that the output is rather larger than the input. The ratio is considerably larger when using a wand, but the magical constant accounts for much of the spell in either case._

 _Below the charts you will find the requisite equations._

 _All these educational things aside, how are you boy? And how is young Alphonse? I am doing well. The Hogwarts letters I presume have yet to go out, as I've not gotten the usual influx of first years yet. Dumbledore left it till even later last year, but even so this is a little much._

 _When they have time to shop, I have time to keep the inventory flush. I'm afraid I'll be wiped out again this year. I may have to dip into the store I have at Gringotts. Perhaps I'll finally get to meet that Nyorok fellow you talk about._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Garrick_

Ed spent the last month and a half of summer corresponding with both Garrick Ollivander and Nyorok the Goblin. Their takes on magic gave him a break from the insanity that was the usual wizarding acceptance of the impossible.

Hermione pulled the letter from his hands. "I've always wanted to see some of these charts! We learned a bit about wandlore in Ancient Runes last year, but these look like trade secrets!"

Well. Not all of the wizards simply accepted the world they lived in. "Are you familiar vis any of zeese equations?"

"Not really," Granger said. "Some of these look like the things I learned for Gamp's Law and it's exceptions. Alphonse! Come look at this!"

Alphonse poked his head into the living room from the kitchen. "Huh?"

"Ollivander gave Ed some information on wandlore, if you're interested."

Alphonse pulled his wand out of the holster he had rigged under his sleeve. "Absolutely!"

Ed rolled his eyes, pulled a ballpoint pen out of his enchanted bag, and began crafting a response to Ollivander's letter. He was never going to fall for that quill bullshit the wizards preferred.

 _Dear Garrick,_

 _Al and I are doing pretty well, all things considered. I've just finished grading my students' final exams, and I'm proud of what they managed to get done – you know? They'd already flunked the course once before, but they're not stupid._

 _The charts you sent along look like they'll really help me to define the magical constant – even if I still don't get where that constant comes from. I'll figure it out eventually._

 _I hope you manage to keep up with the last minute demand._

 _Good luck,_

 _Ed_

"I still can't believe you use owls to send your letters," Ed said, stroking the feathers of Ollivander's owl before securing the letter in the little case tied to her leg. Rather predictably, her name was Wanda, and she was a beautiful barn owl. She pecked at his fingers affectionately before alighting through the window. He watched her fly away with wonder suspended in his throat.

"It does take getting used to," Hermione said, joining him at the window to watch. "But it is efficient. Honestly I think the wizarding owls may actually be a magical subspecies that simply mirrors naturalistic varieties."

"Zat would make sense," Ed said. "Vould it have started vith intentional alterations?"

"Only through your basic artificial selection, I think." Hermione smoothed the chart and looked back to Ed. "Do you mind if I make myself a copy of this?

"Go ahead," he said, handed her paper and a ballpoint pen. Ed considered Alphonse. They'd already done one of their spar for the day, but Harry's birthday tea was scheduled for later that day and Ed had turned in the final exam grades to Jenkins the day before. "Does Frau Veasley need any help in the kitchen?"

"I'm on zat, bother," said Al. "She's got most of dinner already in progress."

Ed peered around the door. Sure enough, pots were simmering on the stove and the oven was clearly in use. The Matron of the Red Hair was turning her wand idly, nose buried in a book. Even engrossed as she was in _The True Story of Gilderoy Lockheart_ , she manipulated a wooden spoon that slowly stirred one of the pots.

"What zee Hell?"

Alphonse shrugged. "Zee prep work vas zee hard part. She's just monitoring sings, now."

Ed shook his head, and pulled out one of Granger's old textbooks. He may not be able to perform magic, but he was damn well going to understand it. "I sink I am going to zee room to study. Zee smell of food is distracting." Granger and Al nodded and waved him off. It was not long before he was settled at the desk, deep into the book he had borrowed.

It was an hour before Ed realized that anything was amiss.

A pecking sounded at the window, and Ed looked up from his studies to see that Ollivander's owl was back again. He threw open the window and the owl spat a crumpled piece of paper from her mouth. It skidded off the desk, and hit the floor with an audible _thunk_. Odd. He knew it took the poor thing at least a half hour to fly from the Burrow to Ollivander's shop. That would leave hardly time to write one. He checked the satchel on the owl's leg, and felt cold dread harden in his stomach. The letter was completely unopened.

Hands shaking, Ed picked the paper up from the floor. It was heavier than it should have been and when he smoothed it, the answer was clear. The paper had been hastily wrapped around a key, and on it was scrawled in all-capitalized large, frantic letters was: GRINGOTTS 327.

Ed vaulted out of the room and down the stairs. "Ollivander! He's in danger!"

He needn't have said anything, for Lupin and Tonks had just arrived for Harry's birthday tea, faces grim. "He's been dragged off," said Lupin. "He set off an alarm, but by the time aurors got there he was gone. Nothing in the shop looked amiss, but."

"You're kidding." Harry, Ron, and Ginny had stumbled in from the garden, brooms slung over their shoulders.

"How did you know?" Tonks had rushed forward to meet him at the base of the stairs, hands bracing his shoulders.

"I haff to get to him!" Ed said, and then switched into Amestrian. "Al! We have to get to Diagon Alley! It's the old man!"

He tried to push past Tonks, but she kept her arms braced, nails digging into Ed's shoulders.

Alphonse joined her side, and spoke quietly in Amestrian. "What happened, brother?"

"He didn't even read the letter I sent," Ed said. "Just sent me the key to his vault at Gringotts, the one with the extra wands."

" _Verdammt!_ " Al turned to Tonks and in English said, "Can you take us to his shop?"

But Mrs. Weasley stood in the doorway to the kitchen. "Absolutely she can not," she said. "You are a _child_ , Alphonse."

"And Ollivander is our friend," he said. "I know _mein bruder_ is impulsive and stupid, but it sounds like Aurors have already secured the scene and we have to see if we can help."

"My brozer might be a child, Frau Veasley," Ed said, "But I am his legal guardian. I vill be zee one to decide vat he is ready for and I can tell you now zat vee haff both pulled off riskier stunts." Ed brandished the vault key at her. "He gave me zee key to his vault vor a reason!"

"Let's go," said Tonks, finally letting go of Ed's shoulders. The room erupted in protests. The loudest from Mrs. Weasley, who demanded them to not. But Ginny had inherited her mother's lungs, and was the second loudest. She was demanding to be taken with.

"Now _wait_ a minute –" That was from Harry, but the his voice was cut off by the slam of the door and the sound of their footfalls as they ran to the apparition point.

"Damn it!" The shop was utterly undisturbed except for the fact that Ollivander was clearly not in it. "Damn damn _damn!"_ Ed kicked a wall of wand boxes and several clattered to the floor.

"Is there any way to track any apparition zat might have happened?" Alphonse bent to pick up one of the fallen wand boxes.

Tonks stood by the door, wand drawn against anyone who might come in. "No. And that's frustrating until I remember that if we could track their apparition, they could track ours. And there have been some pretty close calls."

Ed scowled. "Damn," he said again, but he could see the logic there.

Alphonse turned the wand box over in his hands, opened it. "It's empty?"

"Vas?" Ed picked up another box. It too was empty. He pulled three boxes from the wall and those too were vacant.

"Why would the Death Eaters want to vanish the wands?"

"Who knows," Ed said, kicking at a box.

Alphonse pulled open another drawer. Empty. "Where will first years get their wands?"

Tonks shrugged. "They'll pull family wands out of storage," she said. "Some will go abroad and buy from Gregorovitch."

"What about zee muggleborns?"

Ed shook his head. "I'll write a letter to Dumbledore. I think zat's vhy Garrick sent me zee key. So zat students who don't haff any ozer vay to obtain zeir vands will be able to be matched vis one at school."

"We should go to Gringotts then," said Tonks. Ed nodded.

"Vis any luck, Nyorok vill be working, und zee whole sing vill go smoothly."

"Let's go." Tonks waved them through the door and the three of them began to make their way down the alley in a tight formation. Tonks kept her wand out, and Ed and Al kept their hands close enough together to clap at a moment's notice.

They nearly did when a silver wolf twisted through the air towards them. "Just got to Ollivander's shop," said the wolf. "You're not there and I really hope you're safe. Be careful, Dora."

The wolf vanished into thin air. Tonks rolled her eyes. "Keep moving," she said. "Remus seems to have gotten the stupid idea that he should be protecting me into his head."

"Vas that vat zey call a patronus?" Ed had read about them, but he'd yet to see one.

"Yup," said Tonks.

"I didn't know they could send messages," Alphonse said.

"It's a tricky bit of magic." Tonks cut herself off from explaining. "There's Gringotts," she said.

Ed nodded and took off at a run.

Nyorok was the one who yelled at him to slow, when he busted through the doors.

"Nyorok!" Ed said. "It's Ollivander! Zee vandmaker. He's been taken."

Nyorok raised a long eyebrow. "And that's my problem why?"

Normally, Ed appreciated Nyorok's apathy toward wizards. Today, however, it was his friend's life that hung in the balance. "He sent me zee key to his vault."

Nyorok's eyes lit in understanding and he ushered Ed into a back room. "Let me see this key."

Ed pulled it from his pocket and slid it from his pocket. "I sink zee terrorist zat has been kicking up a ruckus vants to restrict zee purchase."

Nyorok ignored him, waved a hand over the key. It glowed a warm orange, and Ed blinked. "This is how I can tell that the key was given, not stolen. I like you, Ed, but protocol still applies."

"Right."

"It seems clean," Nyorok said. "Can you tell me the vault number?"

Ed nodded, but slipped the piece of parchment across the table instead of speaking. Nyorok's eyes turned almost sorrowful as he analyzed the handwriting.

"Right," said Nyorok. "I can take you down to the vault, then."

"Sank you."

The last time Ed had been at Gringotts, the entirety of his business had been conducted in this small office. So he was thrown for a loop when the little goblin led him through a grand pair of doors. "Welcome to Gringotts," Nyorok said and Ed's breath was taken away. Beyond them was a wide staircase that led into a cavernous basement.

"Vat in zee vorld?" There was only a tiny scrap of floor below the stairs, and from that floor branched tracks that disappeared into the distance.

"To keep the wizards where they belong," Nyorok said. "Most of them don't like getting their hands dirty."

"Are zere any vizards you like?"

Nyorok snorted. "The ones we hire. And even then the trust only goes so far."

Ed decided that was fair and climbed into the rickety cart Nyorok indicated. "How big is this?"

"Gringotts spreads across most of Diagon and Knockturn Alleys," said Nyorok. "And every bit of it is designed to keep intruders out."

Ed shook his head in amazement as the cart lurched forward. _What a rush!_ The wind generated by the forward momentum was powerful enough to throw Ed to the back of the cart. He crawled to the fore, and held tightly to the rim. "Zis is vantastic!"

Nyorok said nothing, but looked at Ed with such an expression of amusement that Ed would have been offended if he wasn't so awed. They'd descended deep into the Earth, and above him Ed could have sworn he saw a large shape soar.

As quickly as the ride began, it came to an abrupt halt in front of Ollivander's vault. With trembling hands, Ed turned the key into the lock. The noise of the doors open was enough to make Ed wince, picturing how Winry would be aghast. "Vhen vas zee last time zeese hinges vere oiled?"

Nyorok shrugged. "Ollivander doesn't visit the vault often. He developed a charm to send superfluous wands directly to the vault. We stopped him from coming up with the reverse, but he keeps enough in store to not need them."

Ed nodded. The vault was laid out like Ollivander's shop. Rack upon rack of wand boxes filled the space, with narrow aisles between them. "Zere vill certainly be enough wands vor zee virst years here!"

The vault itself was two to three times larger than the shop, and was more densely packed. _Damn_. Ed had known that wand making was Ollivander's reason to live, not only his bread and butter but this was ridiculous.

"You know I don't necessarily want to celebrate more wizards coming of age to learn," said Nyorok. "But I'm glad."

Ed gave Nyorok a tired smile. "Sank you. I'll get in touch viz zee principal tonight, decide how ve're going to select the wands most likely to be choose a virst year. And get a plan in place to locate zee old man."

"Good luck," said Nyorok.

Ed nodded at the stacks. "I'm gonna get a feel vor zee layout in here." And so he did. Ed spent about an hour determining the order of the wands. They were organized first by wood, then by core, and finally arranged from shortest to longest. This could work. He committed the layout to memory and finally exited the building, secure in the knowledge that he had done something for one of his only two real friends in this world.

Nyorok watched him with a puzzled expression throughout the process, but brought him back to the surface without comment.

"I'll write you," Ed said. "I'm still curious about zee international standards vor vizarding money."

"I look forward to it."

Ed grinned at him and rejoined Alphonse and Tonks. With them Lupin. Clear that the three of them had been arguing, Ed kept his explanation brief.

"I need to meet vis Dumbledore," he said. "I haff a solution vor zee first years."

"Zat's fantastic, brozer!"

Tonks looked expectantly at Lupin. "The three of you were exceptionally stupid today."

"Your soldiers had already cleared zee scene, yes?"

"That's beside the point."

" _Nein_ , zat is precisely zee point. Alphonse und I haff razer more experience zen you might sink viz zeese zings. Vee can handle ourselves and you already know zat Tonks can, given zat she is one ov your soldiers."

"You may be of age, Edward. But Alphonse isn't. It's your duty as his guardian to _protect_ him."

Ed stared at Lupin with uncomprehending eyes. What was this asshole's problem? "Alphonse and I haff alvays solved our problems togezer. Vee von't stop doing zat now, just because you're all under zee impression zat I'm eighteen."

" _Bruder!_ "

"What?" said Lupin. "Under the impression?"

"I need to speak to Dumbledore," Ed said, wincing at his mistake. "End of discussion."

And it was the end of the discussion - Lupin glared at Ed a moment longer before casting his patronus for the second time that day. He said nothing to the silver wolf that appeared, and Edward had to assume that Lupin sent the message he wanted him to.

Or close enough to it.

"Can we go back to the Burrow, please?" said Lupin. "You've worried Molly sick."

That was not the truth, Ed discovered when they returned. They didn't find the Matron of the Red Hair as pale and wan as the word 'sick' might suggest. Her worry did not make her sick. It made her hissing, spitting mad.

" _What_ were you thinking?"

Ed said nothing.

"Now I understand wanting to jump in headfirst to save a friend – I'm as Gryffindor as they come, but Alphonse is under age!"

Ed said nothing.

"You _endangered a child!"_ Molly wailed.

"Nein," said Ed. "It is your insistence on not _training_ your _kinder_ zat vill endanger zem now! I may not consider zis entanglement a var, but you haff an unscrupulous terrorist avter zose you haff sworn to protect und instead ov teaching zem to defend zemselves you vould haff zem defenseless!"

"They're children!"

"And your Voldemort vould kill zem anyvay," Ed said. "Alphonse may be a child, but he has all ov zee training I do and he never let me go into a fight alone."

"Training?" said Mrs. Weasley. "And fights? You were a muggle Chemi-whatsit professor. What fights were you two getting _into_?"

Ed steadily met her gaze. He was slipping all sorts of secrets today, and in both cases they only derailed his argument instead of proving his point. "I know how to survive a var, Frau Veasley. And so does Alphonse. Let us do it."

At that moment, Ed was spared from further argument by the arrival of the most beautiful bird he had ever seen. In through the kitchen window swept a bird who's feathers glinted with the reds and oranges and blues and greens of the very hottest of Mustang's fires.

"Fawkes," said Tonks. Ed looked at her askance, and she explained. "Dumbledore's phoenix." Ed blinked as Fawkes alighted on his good shoulder, the bird's leg stuck under his nose.

He extracted the letter from the pouch tied to the bird's leg and unrolled it. Frustratingly, the letter was in German. Presumably to keep it away from the Matron of the Red Hair's eyes. But as much as Ed and Al pretended to be German, they'd only picked up so much of the dialect while there.

Amestrian was close enough to get by on, but no it was not the same. _Damn_. Ed called the language as best he could to the front of his mind.

 _Edward,_

 _What is this I hear about you dragging Alphonse into potential combat situations? Remus told me you would like to speak with me and I believe I can spare a visit to the Burrow tonight around midnight. I hope your reasoning is sound._

 _Albus_

Ed relayed the message, and flounced off to the room he and Alphonse shared to wait out the time. Whatever explanation Alphonse gave in his wake, Ed did not care.

As was the fashion for the principal of the School of Pig Fungus, Dumbledore didn't show up until one thirty in the morning. The gas lamp that Ed had set on his desk was burning low, and he'd long since finished the magic reading quota he'd set for himself. He'd found himself done with time to spare – and the waiting was boring him to tears.

Alphonse had come into the room around eight with dinner trays for the both of them, and immediately set to studying at the other desk. He crawled into bed and fell promptly asleep at around eleven. That was enough to have Ed eyeing the other bed in the room, but the thought of what had potentially befouled one of the only two real friends he'd made in this universe kept him angry enough to stay wide awake. When Dumbledore walked in, that anger guided Ed's first response.

"I haff things to do tomorrow," Ed said, when the door to the room closed behind the old man.

Instead of responding to the complaint, Dumbledore looked to Alphonse, who was asleep in his bed. "Will we wake him?"

"No," said Ed, snorting. "Alphonse sleeps like the dead." Making up for lost time, Ed rather suspected.

"But if we do?"

"Zen he joins zee conversation," Ed said. "I haff trusted Alphonse viz my life, I trust him viz zis."

"Fair enough," Dumbledore said. He seemed to realize that Ed wasn't going to offer him the other chair in the room. And so with a wave of his wand, Albus conjured a ridiculous looking cushion and placed it in the chair himself. "Remus was sparse with the details in his message. Why exactly did the three of you feel the need to go to Ollivander's?"

"Garrick is a friend," Ed said. "He sent me a letter as he vas being taken. Or killed. Or – " Ed shook his head. There was no point in extrapolating their. "I needed to see zee scene vor myself, and I needed to follow zee instructions he left me."

"He left you instructions?"

"And zee letter itself is none ov your business. _But_ , carrying out zose instructions would interest you. Vat Lupin apparently vailed to mention is zat Ollivander gave me access to zose vands he had in storage. For your virst years."

Dumbledore slumped back in his chair in relief and disbelief. "Thank Merlin," he said. "The instant I heard that he'd been taken – I know that wasn't Voldemort's main point for kidnapping him, but I'm sure making things harder on muggleborn first years was a strong plus."

"Vat do you sink vas his main goal, then?" Ed said.

Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled at him, and Ed knew he was about to listen to a string of bullshit. He wasn't wrong. "I have a few theories."

"Bull," said Ed. "Iv you know anything, I need to know it. Ollivander vas zee only sane person I've met ov you vizards and I vill not lose him because you don't vant to tell me vat you know."

"It's the sort of information that I cannot share outside of the Order of the Phoenix."

"Vat are you?" Ed said. "Ten years old? Zat is stupidest faux-badass name I haff ever heard! Is zat vat your merry band ov fools calls zemselves?"

"I'm afraid so," said Dumbledore. His eyes were twinkling again. "Would you like to join."

"Vill it mean I get full disclosure? Or vill you continue to hide sings from me ven it suits you?"

"Full disclosure," Dumbledore said. Ed knew _that_ was a blatant lie.

"The last time I was someone's dog, they ended up dead," Ed said. He'd not killed King Bradley himself, but he had struck the final blow against the Father and been a key player in that coup. Dumbledore's eyes did not stop their twinkle. Ed scowled. "I von't be joining any 'Order' but I vill fight to keep my students safe."

"That is all we ask of our teachers."

"To do zat job right, I need to haff information." Ed crossed his arms and tried to look threatening. He wasn't sure if it worked. "I cannot protect people from any enemy I know nozing about."

"It's Order business."

Ed decided that it was time to play hardball. "Ollivander's vands vor your intel."

"You would deny learning opportunities to eleven year olds?"

The truth was that denying education to anyone was not in Ed's nature. But Old Man Twinkle here didn't need to know that. "Yes," he said. "Zere are ozer vand makers you could turn to, I am sure."

Dumbledore sighed and extended a hand. "I believe we have an accord."

Ed shook it smartly. " _Sehr gut_. I vill draw up plans on how vee might get vands to zee children tomorrow. Vat do you know about my friend?"

"I think Voldemort took Garrick for information," Dumbledore said after a long moment. "He and Harry have twin wands, and I think Voldemort is trying to find a way to get around the bond."

"Iv anyone could vind a vay it vould be Garrick."

"So you agree?"

"It's as good a zeory as any," said Ed. "And it's one zat means he's still alive. Do you haff any leads as to vere prisoners might be kept?"

"You don't want to storm that stronghold, Mr. Elric."

"I do vant to," Ed said. "Regardless ov zee hocus pocus, I can hold my own in a vight."

"Going in alone _there_ is a recipe to get yourself killed." This was the first time all night that the customary twinkle was absent from Albus's eye. "I promise if we find a way in, you will be the first to know."

"Zat's not gut enough." Ed glared at him, and Alphonse turned over in the bed. Ed took that as a cue to quiet down, and lowered his voice to a hiss. "I vant him _found_."

Albus nodded solemnly. "I understand," he said.

"Do you?"

"I've lost people to dark wizards before," he said. "I know."

Ed threw his hands up. "Then you'll know that I need zee information."

"And I know what you'll try to do with it. No."

"I'll get it vrom someone else."

"He vill, too," said Alphonse. Ed and Albus both jumped. "Iv you tell him now, you've earned our loyalty and a level ov security. Maybe ve vill tell you, before going off on our own. Iv you don't? Zen you haff no measure of control vatsoever."

Albus pushed his crescent moon glasses up his nose, and glanced around the dark room. "And I suppose it's no use reminding the both of you that you're children?"

Ed and Al shook their heads in resolute unison. Albus sighed, picked a ballpoint pen from Ed's desk and wrote in small lettering on a piece of conjured parchment.

 _Malfoy Manor_

"It's his entire base of operations," Dumbledore said. "Voldemort himself is likely living there – it would be the height of stupidity to try for it."

"Don't both sides haff normal prisons?"

"No."

"Thank you for telling us, Professor," said Alphonse.

Dumbledore sighed. "You didn't give me much choice."

"Vee never do." Ed grinned at Al in the dark. "Vee don't play."

"I can see that now." Dumbledore rose from the hardwood chair, and with a wave of his wand vanished the pink cushion he'd conjured. "Good night, to the both of you."

"You too, Mr. Dumbledore!" said Al.

Ed rose and opened the door for the headmaster. "Haff a good night," he said, before shutting him out of the room. He was suddenly horribly unsure of the nature of the alliance he just entered into. Ed took a step back from the door, but did not turn away from it.

He would be dumb to think that Dumbledore and Molly wouldn't be having a follow up conversation downstairs, but he couldn't think of a way to listen in on it without giving himself away. Ed was certain the creaking of the stairs had been magically enhanced to discourage eavesdroppers.

So Ed went to bed, annoyed with the fact that it was almost three in the morning. His morning spar with Alphonse would have to cut short or else entirely postponed till the afternoon.

"Good night, brother," Alphonse called to him in Amestrian.

"Good night, Al."

* * *

 _ **Word Count:**_ 4,791

Review and tell me what you thought! Thanks for reading.

Posted on 5/22/2018


	16. Coming to Accords

_**Author's Note**_ _ **:**_ So this is the fastest turnaround we've had in awhile. Summer break is a gift from the gods. We've officially past the hundred page mark in Microsoft Word, so that's a milestone. Enjoy the read, and tell me what you think!

 _ **Disclaimer**_ _ **:**_ WolfishMoon owns neither Hiromu Arakawa's _Fullmetal Alchemist_ nor J.K. Rowling's _Harry Potter_. She never claims the contrary and makes no money from the online publication of this free-to-read fanwork.

* * *

Chapter 16

Coming to Accords

* * *

In the past weeks, Alphonse had been eagerly eating up the mothering that Mrs. Weasley had been all too eager to put down. She wasn't his mother, and that rankled, but Al was only fifteen. After fighting in a war, there was something nice about being mothered. He _wanted_ to experience the childhood he had been denied.

Despite that desire, Al was also aware that he wasn't a child in the same way that Ginny, Hermione, Harry, or Ron were children. So when, after his and Ed's customary spar, Ed decided to take a few books out to the orchard to read, Alphonse decided to do something about it.

"Mrs. Weasley?" he said, poking his head tentatively into the kitchen. While Ed had studied firstly English swear words, Al had made a point to master the honorifics.

"Alphonse?" She was seated at the table, sipping tea with one eye warily watching a pot of oatmeal she had put on.

"Zere is somezing I vould like to talk to you about."

"Did you have a nightmare?" Mrs. Weasley was up and out of her chair in a moment. "Ed was so _foolish_ for bringing you with him on his hair brained scheme yesterday!"

" _Nein._ " Well. That was a lie. Alphonse had a few nightmares, sure enough. He'd had the same ones he'd been having all along, of the Promised Day. The usual ones. "I didn't haff any nightmares."

"Oh," said Mrs. Weasley, deflating suddenly. "That's good."

"Vee valked into an empty shop, Mrs. Weasley. I haff seen vorse." In Al's estimation, there had been nothing remotely traumatizing about the previous day.

"I'm sure you have, sweetie. If ever you want to talk about that, I'm here." She carefully guided the both of them into chairs. Alphonse let himself be led, even if it rather belayed his point.

Alphonse was always the younger Elric brother. Even when he was a hulking suit of armor that could loom over people with the best of them, his voice had yet to change. But at least in Amestris he was respected.

"You are missing zee point."

"Am I?"

"You fought in the last skirmish against Voldemort, right?" Al said, deciding to take a new tack.

"I did," said Mrs. Weasley. "And I still have nightmares from some of the worse fights sometimes. It's completely normal."

Alphonse sighed heavily. This was getting ridiculous, he didn't want to undermine Mrs. Weasley's experience. But. "You fought in zee last skirmish, and I haff probably seen more combat zan you."

"What? Alphonse, I was in a war." Al wouldn't rate either 'war' with Voldemort as one, but he wasn't going to put that so indelicately.

"Ed and I fought in one, too. I've read zee materials on zee first var against Voldemort, zere vere simply more combat situations in ours. Beyond just zee basic battles ov zee var, Ed had a knack vor getting himself into trouble. Vee had people trying to kill us left and right, and mostly it vasn't our fault." Mostly.

Mrs. Weasley was slack jawed and Alphonse felt a small twinge of guilt. He didn't want to be the one to wreck her fantasies about childhood. "But you're so young!" she finally managed to say.

"Ed joined our military at twelve years old. He vas talented enough zat zey did not care, or so vee zought. Later vee realized zat vee both vere talented enough zat zey vanted us on a leash, so zey could kill us later. Vee helped throw a military coup, and Ed himself struck zee final blow on zee man behind it all." Alphonse put a hand on her shoulder. "It has been a long time since eizer ov us has been mothered, und vee appreciate it. But vee had to be adults vor so long zat it grates, sometimes."

Mrs. Weasley blinked, crossed her arms under her breasts. "I would have thought I'd hear about something like that."

Alphonse wasn't ready to tell Mrs. Weasley that he and Ed were from another world, instead he bluffed. "How much attention do you pay to muggle affairs?"

"Not enough, apparently." Mrs. Weasley said, glancing to the ceiling. "What where you so talented in?"

"Vat do you think?" Alphonse said, grinning. "Alchemy!"

Blank faced, Mrs. Weasley asked, "Is that a military skill?"

"It can be," said Alphonse honestly. "Brother's direct superior burned people alive by altering zee oxygen level in zee air. Ed's specialty is stone and metal work. Vhen vee first met Miss Tonks, you'll remember zat he wrapped her in fist made of concrete. It vas automatic, because for years it had to be automatic." Alphonse would never forget the look of horror on her face in that moment. It was horrifying, the way people invented ways to kill each other.

The pot of oatmeal Mrs. Weasley had on the stove was starting to burn, but neither party noticed. Mrs. Weasley had her hands folded on the table, and clearly there was effort involved to keep from wringing them. "I didn't know. Alchemy always seemed so academic."

"To train zee mind, one must first train zee body. Our teacher beat zat into us. Not every Alchemist sees as vee do, but it is our opinion and Teacher's opinion zat book learning is inherently linked to zee physical. Our teacher hated zee military, but her philosophy taught us to survive it."

"I suppose," she said. But it was very clear she didn't agree.

"Vee can take care ov ourselves."

She shook her head. "I suppose you can," she said. But it was very clear she didn't agree with that either.

Alphonse sat with Mrs. Weasley the rest of the day, deciding she needed the company. She knitted and answered his questions as he read through a few massive textbooks, scratched her head when he pulled out the paper and pencil and tried to work out some of the equations that had been sent to his brother in Ollivander's last letter.

As morning turned to afternoon and Al helped Mrs. Weasley set up lunch for the horde, Alphonse said, "Please don't tell Ed I told you. He doesn't vant you to pity him."

"I won't," Mrs. Weasley promised. "I won't tell anyone."

That was all well and good, because Alphonse wasn't quite sure anyone would believe it.

* * *

Edward came in from his studying for lunch. He and Granger were dragged from the shade of an apple tree by Ginny.

"You have to eat _something_ ," she said.

"I brought snacks," said Hermione. Ed just shrugged – he may have always had a ravenous appetite, but books always took precedence over food and sleep and just about anything.

"Get in the bloody house." Girl Ginger wasn't going to take no for an answer, and so with a heavy sigh Edward gathered his books, and some of Granger's besides.

She guarded one book jealously enough that Ed had not even the chance to flip through it. When he tried to surreptitiously slip it into his own pile, Granger snatched it from him before he could do more than glimpse the title. _The Art of Memory._ Ed took note.

The books were all piled into their respective extendable bags, and the three of them trudged into the lopsided Burrow.

Inside, Al wore a carefully cheerful face. The Matron of the Red Hair had turned quiet and watchful. If Ed had been expecting a lecture, he didn't get one. Lunch was cheerful, but there was a tension about the previous day's events. Harry's shoulders were hunched, and Ed reckoned that the boy was carrying misplaced guilt over the events of his birthday.

Didn't Ed know that when you were set up to believe that you carried the world on your shoulders, every bad thing felt like it was your own fault? He certainly did. Their meal was interrupted half-way, as Ed was becoming accustomed, to the arrival of several owls. The booklists that the pocus-principal had been struggling to put together had arrived.

Ed felt a creeping sense of self-satisfaction at their appearance, and looked over Alphonse's shoulder at the letter. The first page was the usual scholarly bluster about admittance, but the second one was of serious interest.

Al's booklist had been altered from other students to display the particular highlights of the curriculum. Many of them Ed recognized from Granger's tutoring sessions. The girl had done a very good job catching Alphonse up to speed even while keeping up with her own summer school work. At the bottom of the letter, disregarding the fact that Al had already purchased his, there was a notice.

 _Due to the remarkable foresight of Garrick Ollivander, this year Hogwarts School will be providing all unequipped first years with wands free of charge._

Ed chuckled, and as the people around the table came to stare at him he snatched Al's letter and waved it in the air. "Ollivander is fery smart man," he said by way of explanation. "Free vands vor zee first year students. I bet Moldyman vas not expecting zat!"

Ginny choked on her sandwich.

The attention was quickly stolen by Potter's appointment to Quidditch Captain and Mrs. Weasley's realization that she could no longer put off taking her children to Diagon Alley.

"I know zat Alphonse already has his supplies, but I vill come along. I haff some business regarding zee donation ov zee vands to attend to at Gringotts."

And there was the lecture he'd been waiting for. "Can we trust you in Diagon Alley, Edward?"

"I'll stay out ov your vay, Frau Weasley." Ed stood from the table, took his plate to the sink, and swept from the room to return to his studies. If he thought Mrs. Weasley was going to seek him out to yell at him as Maria Ross once did, he was wrong.

When it came time for Ed to meet Al for their evening work out and spar, Mrs. Weasley dragged a chair out to the orchard to watch them. Ed looked at Alphonse for explanation, but Al only shrugged. Mrs. Weasley didn't take the opportunity to finish her lecture, but she watched intensely. Her brown eyes flickered across the action, and without giving it the barest attention, her knitting needles clicked relentlessly.

What Al told the Matron of the Red Hair, Ed didn't know. But Ed knew from Mrs. Weasley's uncharacteristically restrained tongue that Alphonse must have said _something_.

Over the next few days, Ed tried to focus on his studies, on training with Al, on biting back the guilt that was mounting on the subject of the pocus-kids' lack of combat training. But he was driven to distraction by the Mrs. Weasley's suddenly watchful figure. Abruptly halted all mentions of Alphonse's boyhood. Mentions Ed's own youth also disappeared.

In the mornings, she set oatmeal to cook itself joined Ginny in the audience of their sessions. Mother and daughter never looked so alike as they sat, Ginny cross-legged and Mrs. Weasley in an old lawn chair, at the edge of their makeshift training ground.

For the rest of that week, dinner remained an extravagant affair, but the other meals had been pared down to utter simplicity. Breakfast and lunch were still delicious, it goes without saying, but they were designed so that the cooking of them could go almost completely unmonitored.

When she wasn't watching Ed and Al, she was watching the other children. Ed decided that she was likely measuring them up. Comparing. Assessing. And whatever determinations she was making, she wasn't sharing.

The days ticked onward to Saturday with Mrs. Weasley resolutely watching everyone. Ed began to develop a sense of when she was near – his skin would prickle and he knew that the Matron was watching him.

Despite the unexpected monitor, Ed managed to proceed with both his studies and with his negotiations with Pig Fungus's principal. By the time Saturday rolled around, the two of them had come to a suitable agreement.

The school would pay Ollivander's a small sum for the wands, and that money would be put in a vault that Ed would open. The vault would be presented to Garrick when he was found, as an extra fund to help him get back on his feet when he was found.

As good as their plans for the wands were, there was absolutely no progress on potential plans to storm this Malfoy place. With the lack of movement there, Ed grew ever more antsy. _Why wasn't anyone doing anything?_ Ollivander was an important member of the community, Ed had begun to realize. Almost every pocus-person in England had at least one interaction with the man under their belts.

So why?

By the time Saturday rolled around, Ed was full ready to mount an assault against Malfoy Manor by himself. He could probably get Tonks to help, and where she went Lupin followed. Ed reminded himself that the numbers were most certainly against him. _Al isn't invincible anymore_ , Ed thought. _He can't play the tank this time._

Ed stood on the front door to the Burrow. "Since vhen do vizards use cars?"

The Patron of the Red Hair was along for this particular mission, and even despite the worry that had settled over both him and his wife over the past days he was cheerful. "We're to be incognito, today."

"Harder to intercept than the Floo," Mrs. Weasley said honestly. "We're taking Harry out of the wards, so the ministry wants to be careful."

Ed snorted. "I've never seen any government be zis try-hard vhen it comes to zee people zey vant to use." When the Amestrian military put him on a leash, it involved teasing him with the answers to everything he wanted. The leash extended to the very boarders of the nation.

That's why it took him so long to recognize it for what it was.

"Hey!" said Harry, and Ed looked at him with a certain amount of pity. Soon this child would be his student, and maybe Ed should make an attempt at pulling him to the side to talk about this whole mess.

"Don't lie to yourself," he said. "Your Ministry vill be very happy vhen you make zeir problems go avay."

Ron shrugged. "He's not wrong, mate."

"He didn't have to phrase it quite so bluntly," said Hermione, sending Ed a scowl the size of the moon. Ed slid into the back seat of the car, and turned his attention to wondering how they were all going to fit into the thing.

Ed needn't have worried. His eyes grew as the car did. With each passenger that slid into the vehicle, the interior of the car widened to accommodate them. He tried to picture Winry's response to this kind of enchantment. Would it be awe? Or would it be fury over the warping of the engineer's original intention?

Surely, whenever he modified his automail using alchemy, the response was fury.

The magical extension of the interior, however enraged or pleased Winry might be by it, made the ride more pleasant than Ed was anticipating. Soon enough, the car was pulling up along an entirely unremarkable street. So unremarkable, in fact, Ed found it hard to focus on any particular feature of it. There was clearly no pub on this block, but the car pulled to the curb anyway. A large man was waiting for them outside.

"Vas?" he said, suddenly on alert. "Zis doesn't look like your Leaky Cauldron."

"Don't be silly, _bruder_ ," said Al. "It's right zere!"

But it couldn't be! Forcing his mind to focus, Ed could plainly see that there was a flower shop, a bakery, a hardware store. Nothing like the street he thought he'd seen out the windows of the pub when he'd been taken there by green fire. Had they all gone mad?

"Vee haff been duped!" Ed said, leaping out of he car and putting a knife to the large man's ribcage. "It's a trap! Zee driver must haff been in league vis zee Moldy-fellow!"

"Shh!" said Granger, gesturing to the startled looking people on he street "Do you want to violate the Statute of Secrecy? Put that knife down! Where did you even get that?"

Why was no one concerned?

"Leave Hagrid alone!" said Harry. "He hasn't done anything to you!"

"He's a threat!"

"Pick us back up in a few hours," the Patron of the Red Hair told the driver before firmly taking Ed by the arm. "Put the knife away, Ed." Maybe it wasn't the Moldy-fellow behind this, and the group that had been duped. Cold fear gripped his belly. Maybe the pocus-people had decided they no longer wanted their secret compromised by a random muggle, even if they were alchemists. Ed began to bring his right hand to clap against his restrained left, but was surprised by Alphonse taking it.

"I've been reading about zese," said Al. The expression on his face was grim, and his body unyielding. "Muggle repelling charms."

"Vas?" Muggle _what?_ Ed would continue resisting, but he trusted Al. He _wanted_ to trust Al. There was no way his baby brother was involved in a conspiracy against him.

"The poor thing," The Matron of the Red hair was staring at him with undisguised pity.

"I have to drag my parents through every time," said Granger. "They've gotten better at recognizing what's happening."

As the herd of them neared the brick expanse that Ed had assumed was just part of the abnormally broad flower shop storefront, he noticed himself getting increasingly distra- was that a threat over on that other street? Should he fig- _Oh._ It was more of that magic shit, clouding his sight.

Ed fought to regain control of his mind, and as Mr. Weasley reached forward as though to open a door, the fog lifted from his eyes. A door. An empty pub. And they were just far enough away for Ed to see the sign. A deeply cracked cauldron.

"Now you see? You're safe," said Granger, gesturing at the door. "If there was any doubt about your muggle-ness, this proves it."

"Why would there be any doubt?" said Boy Savior.

"You haven't seen him perform alchemy," said Granger. Alphonse released his arm, and Mr. Weasley did likewise.

"Never heard of muggles being able to do it." Boy Ginger took great pleasure in bodily shoving him through the doorway, and it took Ed everything he had not to register it as a threat. He looked around instead of spinning on a dime and wrecking the boy. His first glance through the window had been correct. The pub was empty, and the barkeep was looking at them hopefully.

"I don't think you'd ever heard of it, Ronald." Granger flipped her bushy hair, and put her nose firmly in the air.

"Just passin' through today, Tom," said the large man.

"Sorry," said Ed, half to the barkeep and half to the large man. They made their way through the pub as a group and arrived at the now-familiar entrance to Diagon Alley. "You could haff varned me zat vould happen!"

"I forgot?" said Alphonse.

"You said you vere just reading about zee things!"

"We just forget that you're not one of us," said the Patron of the Red Hair. "You'll be teaching at Hogwarts in the fall, and that just says _wizard._ "

"Yer a teacher!" said the large man, grinning broadly. Friendly, for someone Ed might have made a serious attempt at killing

"Yes?"

"Rubeus Hagrid, at yer service," he said. "Jus' call me Hagrid, everyone does. I'll be lookin' forward to workin' wi' you!"

"You vork at zee school?" Ed said.

"Care o' Magical Creatures," said Hagrid. "And Keeper o' the Keys and Grounds."

"I'm sorry I zreatened you, bevore." Ed made a show of pocketing the knife and sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

"Not to worry," said Hagrid. "Toothpick wouldn't'a scratched me – I'm half giant."

"Oh," said Ed, blinking. _Half giant?_ "Zat's incredible."

"Hagrid's the best," said Harry fondly. "I didn't know that Order protection would mean you!"

"Jus' like old times, innit?" Hagrid ruffled the boy's hair, and Ed realized that this half giant – whatever that meant – might be the only person that saw Harry Potter for what he was.

Ed turned to Alphonse. "Do you want to go to the bank with me or stay with the Weasleys?" Ed asked Al in Amestrian once everyone was through the brick archway.

Alphonse shrugged. "I don't want to get in the way of business," he said. Edward hadn't realized that Al somewhat resented being left in the lobby of Gringotts with Tonks until just that moment.

"You wouldn't get in the way."

"If you're sure!" Alphonse's face brightened, and Ed laughed aloud.

"You never get in the way, Al," Ed said before switching into English. "Vee're going to zee bank. Meet you back here?"

"Meet us at the twins' shop," said Mrs. Weasley. If that wasn't proof Al had said _something_ , Ed didn't know what was. "Be safe."

Ed agreed, he liked the Twin Gingers. So off they went through the brick archway. "All things considered," Ed said to Alphonse in Amestrian. "I think I prefer that Floo bullshit to Muggle Repelling whosits."

"Why didn't you attack?" Al said.

"I think it's because I want to be able to trust them," said Ed. "It was a moment of weakness. If they had been planning anything untoward, I would be sitting in a dark alley with no memory."

"If they tried anything, I would have gotten you out." Alphonse put a hand on Ed's shoulder, and Ed placed his own on top of it.

"Thank you," he said. "But I'm starting to think this whole Voldemort thing is why the Truth sent us here."

"You _do_ know his actual name!"

"Yup," said Ed. "I just think it and he are both ridiculous."

"We're uniquely qualified to understand the opposing view," Al said. Ed thought of their father, trying everything to experience age like a normal man. To grow old and die with their mother, only to come back unsuccessful and find her already dead.

"We are."

Ahead was the bank, the walk having gone quickly in the nigh vacant streets of Diagon Alley. "You'll really like Nyorok," said Ed, even though he wasn't quite sure that was true. Al had lost some of his naivety following everything, but he was still by nature optimistic. Nyorok was _not_.

"I'm sure I will brother!" Al said, practically sparkling with enthusiasm. Unless Al's inherent likeability was literal magic, Ed was pretty sure Nyorok would hate him.

"So this is Alphonse, the wizard brother," were the first words out of Nyorok's mouth as the three of them settled in his office.

"Hi!" Al extended a hand, and Nyorok shook it.

"Your brother's told me much about you."

"Only good sings, I hope!" Al said.

"He said you were a wizard," said Nyorok, lip curling slightly.

"So _not_ good sings," Al said. "I definitely agree zat zis whole wizard sing is weird."

"Worse than weird, child," Nyorok said, but the curled lip had curled in the other direction, and Ed breathed out a sigh of relief. "If ever you need help navigating their systems, you come to Gringotts, you understand?"

"I vill! Sank you, Mr. Nyorok!" said Alphonse and Ed decided that maybe Al's inherent likeability _was_ a form of accidental magic.

Everybody likes Alphonse, even the crankiest of goblins. "You're quite welcome. Now, I assume the two of you are here to iron out the plan for wand pairing?"

"Yup," said Ed. "Apparently one ov zee professors – a Flickwhip person, I believe? – is going to handle the matching. Apparently he apprenticed vis Ollivander before starting in vis his dueling career."

"Flitwick," corrected Nyorok. "Half-goblin. He would be the best choice, I think."

"You only say zat because he's half-goblin." Ed waved an accusatory hand.

"Of course," said Nyorok. "He's at least half sensible."

Ed rolled his eyes. "Still. How are vee going to get zee magic-sticks to zee school?"

"I will personally handle their transport," said Nyorok. "I will have a hundred of the most likely combinations there in time for the Sorting."

Ed looked at him strangely. Nyorok hated wizards. He wouldn't have thought he'd like to take such a high level of involvement.

"Consider it a personal favor to Flitwick." Nyorok steadily met Ed's eyes, but he could not help but feel he was being fed a load of bull. "He's my cousin through my mother's side."

Ed decided to accept it for what it was. "Dumbledore sent me a list vis vat Flitwick reckons would be zee best combinations. Send me an inventory list ov zee ones you decide to bring."

"I will."

"As vor payment from zee school, I need to open a vault vor it to be deposited into," Ed said.

"We can do that," Nyorok said.

When all was said and done, Ed had a second vault key tucked with the first in the pocked against his ribs. Nyorok shook both their hands firmly, and Ed and Al took off to the only brightly colored and lively place left in Diagon Alley. There was bravery in keeping cheerful and making people laugh even as the world fell to pieces around you, Ed decided. He admired it.

As they neared the door to the shop, Ed saw what might have possibly been the strangest thing he'd seen yet. Three pairs of feet making their way down the street, and unless he was very much mistaken, he recognized the shoes. He nudged Al, pointed.

Al jumped. "What in the world?" he whispered in Amestrian. Ed shrugged, and melted into the side of the joke shop.

"Let's follow 'em!"

"Alright," said Al. "I wonder what they're up to!"

Ed put a finger to his lips, and the two of them fell to silence, following the feet.

But the feet were hesitant in their motions, keeping to shadowed spots, and when Ed looked for a reason he realized that they were following someone else. A blonde boy about Ed's age who was doing a very bad job at being sneaky.

They turned down a corner onto a street Ed had not been on before. If Diagon Alley had been quiet, then this place pulsed with a seedy undercurrent. Ed and Al followed the feet, and the feet followed the blond, until the boy strode into a shop called Borgin and Burkes. Okay. So an unsneaky kid was going to a shop his parents might not approve of. Big whoop.

Ed put a hand on Al's shoulder to turn and leave when a wrinkled ear on a string tumbled out from whatever was hiding them. Ed turned back to the action, sending Al a quizzical look. Al shrugged. Were Granger, Potter, and Ginger Boy severing human ears now?

Ed thought the answer to that was likely no, judging from what he'd seen of their personalities, but they were distinctly weird.

Ed heard a spare word escape the feet. _Malfoy_. This blonde twerp was affiliated with the Malfoy place Garrick was likely being kept? What? It took everything he had not to dash into the shop and lay the boy out right there. But no. He wasn't as brash as he used to be, Ed told himself, and waited.

Eventually, the blonde came out of the shop. Ed decided to ignore the feet and follow the blonde instead. Out of the corner of his eye, Ed saw the Granger girl appear and enter the shop – probably trying to figure out what the boy's business there had been. Ed waited until he, Al, and the blonde were passing a likely crevice before grabbing the boy by the wrist and yanking him between two crumbling brick buildings.

Alphonse performed the alchemy that brought the cobblestone street up and over the boy's feet while Ed held him still. "You haff affiliation vis zee Moldy-person!"

"What?" the boy blubbered. The fear in his eyes was real and _strong_. Good.

"You haff my friend in zee Malfoy place!"

"Sorry to do zis," Alphonse said, molding cobblestone into shackles around the boy's wrists. "But vee really must get our friend back."

"Malfoy place? You mean my _house?_ " the boy said. "I can't keep track of every prisoner the Dark Lord decides to put there! Let me _go_!"

" _You_ own zee Malfoy place?"

"My father does!" said the boy. "Don't you recognize me?"

"Should I?" said Ed.

The boy managed to pull a self-important mask over his face even despite his situation. "I'm Draco Malfoy and that means you're going to let me go, or things won't go so well for you."

"You say zat like I should be impressed, but I am muggle being dragged into all zis magic crap, so you vill find I haff no vay ov knowing who you are or vat zat means. I don't care, eizer."

Malfoy looked from Ed to Al to the cobblestone that had been so cleverly manipulated. He spit at Al, who sidestepped it neatly. "You're a dirty mudblood, then. And you're the filth he comes from."

"Oh shut up," said Ed. "Your valse bravado doesn't make you zreatening."

"What do you want?"

"I vant my friend. You probably know him – Garrick Ollivander?"

"Ollivander's _friends_ with a muggle?" said Draco. "Always said I should have bought my wand from Gregorovitch – the man has plainly lost it."

"Whether he's senile or not isn't the question." It had to be granted that Garrick was eccentric, but he wouldn't say anything bad about one of the only scientific minds he'd encountered among these wizards.

"Vee really just vant to know vhere he is, and how to get him out," said Alphonse, clasping his hands together. How Al managed to look the very picture of innocence while interrogating people was another thing Ed suspected was magic.

"He's in my basement. They made me bring him down there. Good luck getting him out."

"Zen you'll get him out vor us," said Ed. "Or else."

"No way," Malfoy said, flatly. "Not worth it."

"Not vorth your miserable life?" Ed was sick of this kid's shit.

"I think you'd kill me quickly." It was the only thing the boy had said that sounded genuine. "It's preferable to the alternative."

 _Oh_. It was true – it wasn't in Ed to cause undue pain. Or to kill in cold blood at all, really. "Get him out for me," Ed said. "And I will help you get your home back." Because that was the issue, wasn't it? This child felt a prisoner in his own home.

Draco laughed at the suggestion. "How?"

"I'll kill zis Moldy-person myself."

"Hilarious."

"Iv he's dead, you're free," said Alphonse. "And vee can do it, iv we haff inside help and a vay out ov zere."

"You're crazy," said Draco. "You're a muggle and a mudblood, you'd be dead. On second thought, maybe I should help you into the house – it would put you in the grave where you belong."

"I'm told I ought to prefer zee term muggleborn." Al's cobblestone restraints crept up Malfoy's limbs a fraction. Malfoy didn't look impressed.

"Good show, but this is a party trick. And what can _you_ do." Draco turned to Ed. "A muggle would be defenseless."

"I'm not defenseless," Ed said. "And I von't prove myself to you."

"Right." Malfoy rolled his eyes and Ed idly wondered how this little twit managed to be infuriating despite his current position.

"Vorget vat vee are. Iv you could, vould you kick zee Moldy out ov your house?"

The brief pause that stretched before Malfoy said no was telling enough. "Help us, and vee vill help you," said Alphonse. "We can get you out ov zere – anyone can see you're floundering."

"You don't know the first thing about me."

"But vee know somezing about children in vartime," said Ed. "Vee haff been zere, haff been soldiers for a truly evil regime."

"They have my mother," said Draco. "So I don't know who you think I am or you are, but I've chosen my side in this." It was the only reason Ed might have understood.

"Zere vas zee advantage to our mozer being dead," Ed said, trying to sound flippant. "No one could use her against us."

Alphonse shrugged. "Zey used me against you a few times."

This was true. "Vamily is important," Ed said. "You get us Ollivander, vee vill get her out ov zere."

Draco Malfoy regarded Ed carefully. "If you can keep her from being prosecuted for her crimes by Dumbledore's groupies, we have an accord."

Ed wasn't sure that he had any control over what the Order did to her, but he wasn't going to turn that down. Ed made a point to undo the alchemically imposed restraint on Malfoy's right hand, ignoring his look of surprise, and extended his. They shook.

"Zee name is Edward Elric," Ed said. "If you need to contact us, send zee owl to me."

"I vish vee had someone here to bind zee deal in zee vay vizards do." Alphonse looked at Malfoy with an intensity that worried Ed. "How do vee know you von't betray us?"

"Aren't you a wizard?" Draco said. "You can be our binder."

"I'm underage. I can't use magic out of school."

"But you just _did_!" Draco gestured with his free hand at the cobblestone. Ed snorted.

"Vasn't magic." Ed kept his voice casually neutral. "Any muggle could do it, iv zey knew how. It can do a lot more zan shape stone." His eyes were heavy with intimation and promise of what would come if Malfoy reneged on them.

"The ministry can't detect underage use here," Malfoy said. "There's too much magic in the air."

Was it worth the risk? Ed decided that it was. He nodded to Alphonse, who withdrew his giant ash wand. Malfoy's eyebrows shot into his hair at the sight of the thing.

"If you're lying about zis," Alphonse said, eyeing the cobblestone around Malfoy's left hand and feet. "Clasp hands, Ed say your terms."

Ed and Malfoy clasped hands, and even though he had no idea what he was doing or what it meant, Ed said, "Do you swear to help us free my friend Garrick Ollivander?"

"I do," said Draco, and a burst of flame issued from Alphonse's wand and wrapped around their hands. Al looked astounded. It was the first magic he had ever performed, Ed realized. Alphonse was an alchemical prodigy, but even so it was amazing that this first attempt worked.

"Do you swear to protect his fellow prisoners as much as you can?"

"I do," said Draco. Another burst of flame.

"To keep zis conversation and our existence secret vrom Voldemort?"

"I do," Another flame. "He would kill me as surely as the spell."

"To help us vhen it comes time to kill him?"

"I do." That was the end of Ed's demands, and so the table turned. "Do you swear to help me stay alive?"

"I do," said Ed, somewhat regretting he had not asked Malfoy to do the same. Another flame.

"To help my mother stay alive?"

"I do."

"To protect us from prosecution when the war is over?"

"I do." By this point, there were so many tongues of flame wrapped about their hands, it looked almost like a single ball.

"And to help, when the time comes to kill the Dark Lord?"

The same term Ed had ended with. A wise choice. "I do."

"It is done, I believe," said Alphonse, and the flame around their hands blazed bright. For the first time since they had begun the process, it burned. Their hands tightened in reaction to the pain, and then it was over.

"Vat did I just do?" Ed trusted Al, but he really wasn't sure what precisely he'd just done.

"An Unbreakable Vow," Draco said. "Only way I'd trust the likes of you."

"Fatal," said Alphonse. "If anyone violates zee terms. Couldn't trust him not to tell Voldemort to tighten security and come avter us."

Malfoy glared at Alphonse a moment, who shrugged in response. "I'm gentle," he said. "But never mistake zat vor naïve."

Ed clasped his hands together and released the cobblestones from Malfoy's body. "Good luck," he said. "Vee can correspond to come up vis plan."

"I have some ideas," said Malfoy, and Ed got the distinct impression he'd already been thinking of ways to escape with his mother in tow. "I'll be in touch."

He began to turn around, but then turned back. "Was that alchemy?"

Startled, Ed agreed. "How did you know? Most vizards don't know much about it."

Malfoy smirked. "It's a hobby of mine. I was excited to see it offered as an elective this year."

Ed froze, and had to stop himself from laughing. He'd be seeing a lot of this boy, then. "I hope you know more about it zan most ov zeese vizards."

"I know a little," Malfoy said. "After a year with a proper teacher? Who knows. Maybe I'll be better at it than you two."

Oh it was _on_. If Ed had entertained the idea that he would tell Malfoy upfront about his professorial status, he wasn't going to now. Why ruin the surprise? Both he and Alphonse laughed.

"I'll be starting at Hogwarts zis fall," Alphonse said. "Maybe vee can study together."

"Maybe," said Malfoy. "If you can keep up with proper wizarding stock."

"I sink I can," Alphonse said. "Zat spell I just did? Zat vas zee first one I ever performed, and I sink vee all felt it take." Malfoy's jaw dropped, and Al grinned. "See you at Hogvarts."

Ed decided to let Al have his dramatic exit, so the two of them turned from Malfoy in unison and walked back to Diagon Alley and the bright colors of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

* * *

 _ **Word Count**_ _ **:**_ 6,325

This is the second time this story has broken my record for chapter length. And after a mere nine days!

I know I've made some questionable decisions this chapter, but the characters insisted. We are now treading into _highly_ AU territory. Tell me what you thought!


	17. Trains and Transitions

_**Author's Note**_ _ **:**_ Can you say filler chapter? Sorry guys. I wanted to get further, but this was pushing the limits of my usual word-count as is, and if I went any further it would need to be another two thousand words. :/

On the bright side, I managed to write 30,000 words of my original novel as my word count goal for Camp NaNoWriMo of July. Sorry for the absence, but I'm really excited about what I managed to accomplish. I finished the first skeleton draft of it and reached a combined total of just over 60,000 words. So once I flesh out transitions and add in some of the subplots I ignored it'll probably clock in at 150k.

And now, I can take a break to focus on The Scientist's Lament – I think I earned that.

 _ **Disclaimer**_ _ **:**_ WolfishMoon doesn't own Fullmetal Alchemist or Harry Potter. They are respectively the property of Hiromu Arakawa and J.K. Rowling, and no claims are herein made to the contrary. She makes no money from the online publication of this free-to-read fanwork.

* * *

Chapter 17

Trains and Transitions

* * *

The next few days were spent dealing with Harry's paranoia. Ed understood, he really did. But having procured an Unbreakable Vow from the object of Harry's suspicion, listening to the endless stream of What If's was getting old.

Ed just reminded himself that if Draco Malfoy double-crossed him, he would die.

"Can we actually trust you?" Harry said to him Tuesday afternoon, deciding to spread his paranoia brush a little more liberally. Great.

"Vould be wise ov you, iv you didn't." Ed snapped the book he was reading on Gamp's Law shut. "In your position, you should be vary ov trusting anyone."

Harry slumped against the tree next to the one Ed was sitting under. "I'm glad you understand my position."

"Vhy are you here?" Ed asked.

"No one is taking my suspicions seriously, and it's getting old."

"Malfoy?"

Harry started, fingers digging into the soil by a large root. "How did you know about that?"

Ed snorted. "Granger told me, asked iv she should be vorried about you."

"Oh." Harry sagged back against the fruit tree. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her zat paranoia vould help keep you alive, provided you don't take it too far. To you, I'm going to say zat iv you don't trust him, be defensive and vatch vrom afar. Paranoia isn't useful iv you put yourself in danger." Ed stood up. "I hear you are a good fighter, but I can't know vor sure zat you can protect yourself until I haff seen it."

"What?" said Harry, looking up. "I can't do magic outside of school. I'd get expelled!"

Ed looked at him doubtfully. Really? "Is magic zee only way you can fight?"

"No!" said Harry. "I can fight."

Ed rolled his shoulders. "Zen come at me. I vould like to see."

Harry continued to sit at the base of the tree, a stupid expression on his face. Ed stuck out a hand, and Harry seemed to come to a decision. He reached up, took the hand, hauled himself halfway to his feet before he dropped again.

It wasn't the best opening move, but it was something. Ed grinned as Harry's momentum took them both to the ground. Ed rolled back to a crouching position, and threw a punch to Harry's gut. Harry doubled over, briefly, but recovered before Ed could take real advantage. He straightened just as Ed's elbow was about to come down between his shoulder blades, making the blow glance off almost harmlessly.

Ed dropped back to the crouch and took Harry out at the knees with a low wheel kick. Harry went down hard. Ed put a foot on his chest, careful to use his right. "Nice," he said. "Zat is better zan I feared."

"My cousin's the local boxing heavy weight champion," Harry said. "He likes to use me for practice."

There was a bitterness to the tone that indicated that Harry wasn't exactly a willing participant in these sessions, but it had given him something. Harry's hand wrapped around Ed's ankle. With the left leg as Ed's anchor, it didn't off balance him by much but it was enough for Harry to roll away and spring back to his feet.

Ed laughed, and was about to go at him again when suddenly there was Ginny. "You'd teach him but you wouldn't teach me? What kind of professor are you?"

Whoops.

Ed looked at Ginny guiltily. "Alright zen. I'm sorry, I vasn't sinking, and he technically isn't your mozer's son, so I didn't feel zat I needed permission. Iv you vant, you can come at me."

Ginny charged without any hesitation, channeling the rage that being left out had likely instilled in her. Ed saw the weakness in the attack, side stepped. She landed hard, but her fingertips had managed to latch on Ed's pant leg, so she didn't go as far as she might've.

Girl Ginger jumped to her feet and aimed an uppercut at Ed's chin, he leaned backwards to evade and landed a punch below her ribs. She grunted, but did not give. Setting up the blow had left Ed too close to her, and her knee found purchase in his own gut. She will be good at this, Ed thought as he geared up to pull on Ginny the same set of maneuvers he pulled on Harry, so that the boy could watch them. In seconds, Ginny was on the ground beneath his right foot.

"Zee two ov you are pretty evenly matched. You boz managed to land a hit each, and it took me roughly zee same amount ov time to take you out," Ed said, pulling his weak right arm across his chest. "I'm going to lead you bos zrough some stretches and zen I vant zee two ov you to spar."

Ginny and Harry looked at each other, shrugged, and mirrored the movement. He got through the set, disguising a few stances as additional stretches, and then set them against each other. It was gratifying to see the both of them with the firmer footing he had snuck into the lesson. It took a half hour before Alphonse noticed what was going on, giving them even numbers for practice.

"You aren't," he said.

"I needed to get Potter's mind off ov Malfoy," Ed said. "So I told him to fight me. Girl Ginger saw, and she vasn't going to let zat slide."

"Vell," said Alphonse. "Honestly I vas very close to giving up vis Ginny. Vas going to start teaching her vhen vee got to school."

Ed nodded – he'd thought that might be the case. "Zen I gave her a head start."

Ginny landed a solid kick to Harry's gut, and he landed between Ed and Al's feet. Alphonse grinned, and began to extend a hand to Harry but he leapt to his feet and back into the fray without it. Al blinked, and gave Ed an amused expression. In Amestrian, he said, "I think there might be some tension there."

Ed dissolved into laughter, and replied in the same, "I think you might be right, Al."

It turned out that both Harry and Ginny, along with most of the Clan of Red Hair, played a wizarding sport that was something like airborne rugby. Over the rest of that week, the skill transferred well. There were several moments where both Ginny and Harry managed to successfully tackle both Ed and Al from the front, fingers digging into the soft flesh next to their spines.

"Sports," Al said, musing. "Zey might not be as stupid as vee sought zey vere."

The four of them settled into a rhythm that last week – up and fighting an hour before breakfast, studying till lunch, and then back at it once the worst heat of the day had passed. With the extra partners, Ed reckoned that he and Al were nearing their original levels of fitness. Ginny and Harry weren't bad students, either. By Friday, Hermione and Ron joined them.

"Really don't see how this will help against wizards," said Ron. "But if you're all saying it's important?"

Granger expressed dislike over the idea, and so they set her on the simplest exercises. Her two cents were: "I hated gym in primary school, but I don't want to die."

Mrs. Weasley said nothing about the whole affair, but she continued to drag out her lawn chair to watch. "Take care of them," she told Ed privately. "I know you can, and I know you have the experience to pull it off."

So Al told her about the military. Ed looked to the ceiling, hoping that Alphonse left out the part about alternate universes. But Ed got her point – anyone to target the Brood of the Red Hair Extended Edition would have to go through him.

"I promise," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I don't vant to see any ov zem dead."

"Neither do I." Whatever Al said to her had done the trick.

The regimen they developed did not have long to flourish, because Sunday September 1st dawned sooner than any of them expected. The animals – including Alphonse's kneazle kitten Eve – were all loaded into their respective carriers. Ed had packed his newly extendable briefcase days ago.

Outside, once again waited the similarly extendable cars. The Patron of the Red Hair had explained the night before that there would be an Auror guard waiting for them at the train station. Ed's heart soared at that thought – finally a sensible form of travel from these people!

The Auror guard was quick and efficient, but their size and relative prowess made Edward uneasy. Still half expecting to be double-crossed at the last second, Ed reminded himself that he could take them down in a moment. He just hoped he wouldn't have to.

As it turned out, he didn't.

After wading through the crowded train station, Ed stood with the group before the column between platforms nine and ten. Well. Maybe he'd spoken too soon when he'd rejoiced at sensible forms of transportation. "Vee haff to valk _srough zee vall_?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Weasley. "Harry first, so we can get him out of the crowd."

One of the large man walked through the barrier with Harry, who was clearly disgruntled by being escorted. Tough luck, kid. Ed was vaguely sorry that the kid didn't have an Alphonse to speak on his behalf to the smother-mother powers that be.

"If you'd like to try going next, Ed," said Mr. Weasley. "Just make sure you hold Al's hand as you do, or the barrier won't let you through."

"Best to do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous," said Mrs. Weasley. Ed glared at the both of them, slung his briefcase over his shoulder and poked the wall. It was undeniably solid until Alphonse grabbed his wrist. Then, his hand slipped neatly through the stone. What the actual fuck? Ed strode through the barrier, entirely unwilling to let his unease show. Harry and the stone faced auror were waiting on the other side when Ed and Al could see it.

Ed didn't notice them all that much - the scarlet steam engine that waited on the track made Ed's heart sing. Nothing like the oddly sleek trains back on the other side of the wall, this train looked like a more flamboyant version of the trains back home. "Look, Al!" he said, in Amestrian.

"Just like home." Al's voice was quiet with awe.

Their reminiscing was interrupted by Harry awkwardly waving at them. "Ron and Hermione have got a prefects meeting, and Ginny's sitting with her boyfriend. So it's up to us to find a compartment."

 _Boyfriend?_ Ed had been under the assumption that Harry and Ginny were at the very least unofficially an item. He gave Harry a confused look, but refrained from commenting. Instead, he turned to the business at hand. In the distance, he spotted the white-blonde hair of Malfoy. Better to keep Harry's eyes and mind off of him. "I bet zee train gets full quickly."

The three of them rushed to the edge of the platform, saying their goodbyes to the Matron and Patron of the Red Hair. Granger had helped Mrs. Weasley enchant another bag for Alphonse, so the two of them had no problem boarding, but they turned to help Harry who had the double problem of being laden with trunk and owl as well as being swarmed.

Oh. Ed had not realized that Harry was quite so famous. Ed took the trunk, as Al was laden by both bag and kitten, and pulled. "Come on Harry," he said. "Don't be avraid to shove."

"Right," said Harry, shouldering people out of his way. The hero-worship in the eyes of the people swarming him was plain, and Ed cringed in sympathy.

Once they were on the train, the crowd was no better. Several people seemed about ready to ask Harry to join their compartment when a young-sounding voice piped up from behind them. "Hi Harry!" "

"Neville!" said Harry with audible relief, and Ed decided to assume that the boy was a friend.

"Hello, Harry," said a girl with long blonde hair tucked behind her ears and abnormally large blue eyes. She looked and held herself nothing like Winry, but the color combination hurt all the same.

"Luna, hi, how are you?"

"Very well, thank you," she said. "Who are your friends? I'm afraid I've never seen them before."

"Oh, uh. This is Al and his older brother Ed. Al's a transfer student and Ed's going to be teaching here. So call him Professor Elric, I guess."

"I'm Luna," she said. "But most people call me Loony."

"Uh," said the other boy. "Don't call her that, please. I'm Neville."

"They fought with me last spring," Harry explained, and suddenly the unit of them made sense. Ed could see these two fighting along side Granger and Harry, Ron and Ginny.

"Pleased to meet you!" said Al, beaming.

"Likewise," said Neville. Luna hummed contentedly, and the five of them set off through the tight press of students.

When they found an empty compartment, Ed slammed the door behind them. The seemingly universal curiosity about Harry and his friends was oppressive.

"They were even staring at us!" said Neville, wonder in his voice. "All because of you, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes, clearly unwilling to accept _all_ of the acclaim. "It's because you fought with me at the Ministry, I reckon. The press featured all of us."

"I thought Gran would be furious! But she was so proud." Neville pulled his wand from his sleeve. "She even bought me a new wand, cherry and unicorn hair! We think it was one of the last wands Ollivander sold, he disappeared the next day."

"Taken," said Ed. "He vas taken." But Neville had already dove under the seat after a toad that had jumped from the pocket of his robe. Alphonse tightened his grip on the cat carrier. No need for a small interspecies battle right there in the compartment. Just like Mei's panda, Eve was a vicious little thing when she wanted to be, and her eyes were already following the toad with a predatory interest. She and Hermione's cat had gotten into a few scrapes, and even despite Crookshanks's superior life experience it was hard to tell who was the winner of them.

"What will you be teaching?" said Luna, artfully changing the subject.

"Alchemy," said Ed. "I've heard zee science education among you vizards is rather lacking. If my brozer is going to go to school vis zem, the curriculum is going to be complete."

"Brother's a muggle," said Alphonse. "And neither ov us knew zat magic existed until zis summer."

"Wow," said Neville. "That's, uh."

"It must be quite an adjustment," said Luna. "I understand the frustration about the sciences – my mother was a researcher, and really there is no reason that science and magic can't go hand in hand."

"We've been vorking out zee equations," said Al. "And vee see no reason zat science can't be applied to it!"

"I like plants," said Neville, who had reemerged from the bench toad in hand. "Studying 'em is much the same whether they're magic or not."

Luna turned to Harry. "Will we be continuing with the DA meetings?"

Neville jumped and sent a pointed look in Ed's direction. Luna laughed. "I rather think Professor Elric would appreciate the initiative."

Harry and Neville both seemed to give up in that moment, and Ed recognized that Luna likely had a talent for dropping bricks in conversation. Ed gestured at them to continue. "Do zee homevork I assign and I really don't care vat you do in your free time."

"There's no point really," said Harry, after a pause. "Now that we got rid of Umbridge."

"I liked the DA." Neville stuffed the toad back into his pocket. "I always learned loads with you."

"I enjoyed it too," Luna said, and Ed knew she was going to drop another conversational brick. "It was like having friends."

And there it was. Both Neville and Harry visibly cringed.

"Vell," said Alphonse. "Vee can be friends!"

Luna's answer was cut off when the door to the compartment slid open. Ed rolled his eyes, pulled a book from his bag. Harry seemed a good enough kid, but Ed wasn't going to deal with his fangirls. Ed let himself get lost in his book as the conversation shifted around them.

Eventually Hermione and Ron found the compartment and as with the cars, the space shifted to accommodate them. It didn't exactly stop the compartment from feeling cramped, and Ed was suddenly grateful that he'd snagged the window seat.

Just as he was moving from one book to the next, a student poked their head in. "I'm supposed to deliver this to Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, and Edward Elric?"

Ed stuck out a hand without closing his book.

"Bruder," Alphonse admonished. He took the note from the messenger and handed it to Ed. Ah. Another teacher had been relegated to riding the train. Reluctantly, he closed the book. It would be good to make allies of the other teachers. Tucking the book into the extendable briefcase and slinging it over his shoulder, he stood.

"Let's go, zen. Alphonse?" There was no way in hell he was going to leave Al in the compartment – Luna or no Luna.

What followed was one of the most awkward experiences of Ed's life. Slughorn liked to kiss up to people and network, but it was clear he was also not fond of surprises. Alphonse's inclusion in the party was one such surprise that Slughorn could not quite get behind.

"Vat," said Ed. "I'm protective. Sue me."

"A very good trait to have, young man, I am sure," said Slughorn. With a wave of his wand, an extra chair appeared. "Sit, sit!" and they did.

Ginny was sitting awkwardly at the other end of the table, and she shot the four of them a small wave and a halfhearted smile.

The whole dinner was clearly an attempt to curry favor with talented students, so why, Ed had even been invited he was not sure.

"They say Alchemy is a dying art you know, I'm very impressed to see that two such young men have mastery over it." Slughorn thrust a tray of pastries under their noses.

"Our father was –" Slughorn cut Alphonse off.

"Oh you were taught by your father! How sweet! Who exactly is your father?"

"Err," said Alphonse. "No. He left. We taught ourselves with the library he left behind."

"Trust me ven I say you vouldn't haff heard ov him," said Ed, laughing internally. "But he is a master, to be true."

"I shall simply have to meet him." Slughorn beamed, and Ed found himself calculating the difficulties of inter-universe travel. He snorted, but Slughorn ignored it. "I am so excited to count you among my colleagues!"

"Sure," said Ed. "Vat vill you be teaching?"

"An art quite similar to yours, I am proud to say." Slughorn looked very self-satisfied. "I will be taking up the post of Potions Master."

Ed supposed that of all the hocus-pocus, potions was the one that best captured the spirit of alchemy.

"But Snape is the Potions Master!" Harry said, standing up in his chair. Ed looked at him strangely, shook it off. Perhaps Snape was a particularly good teacher, and Harry was sad to see him go.

"Why, Professor Snape will be taking up Defense Against the Dark Arts, of course."

Well maybe this Snape person wasn't leaving but Harry still looked stricken. "But," he said. "But."

"But what, dear boy?"

Harry sat back down. "Never mind," he said. His face was dark, and Ed knew better than anyone what that meant. Ed vowed to keep an eye on this Snape person. At least Alphonse well knew how to defend himself.

The lone green-robed boy among the bunch looked amused, and Slughorn reached across the table to put a hand on his shoulder. "I do regret not having the opportunity to be your Head of House."

The boy dipped his head. "My mother always speaks highly of your classes. I'm honored to be able to take them." Slowly, Slughorn – Ed couldn't think of a nickname any sillier than the name the man already had – worked his way around the table, plying his future students for their connections and their talents.

Yikes.

Ed resolutely vowed to watch over the students this man decided to pray upon. Maybe Slughorn could help them network, but he doubted he was giving out anything for free.

The conversation then turned to Harry Potter, the concept more than the boy himself, and the Battle at the Department of Mysteries. The boy in green made a disdainful noise, only to be thoroughly brought down by Ginny.

Interesting to know that she was already hexing her enemies, five minutes into being allowed to do so again.

"Zee vay I heard it, you all put yourselves in a stupid amount ov danger," Ed said.

"Shove off," said Ginny. "We were trying to do the right thing."

"Bruder!"

Ed shook his head. "I vould haff done zee same," he assured, and Girl Ginger settled. "I'm proud to teach people who aren't afraid to fight. But I've learned over zee years zat my example isn't alvays zee best one."

When the little party was finally over, Ed learned how the relatively unconnected Ginny had made it into the gathering. "He saw me hex Zacharias Smith," she said. "Thought it would be detention, rather than dinner."

It was then that Harry seemed to have an idea. Oh no. Harry made his excuses to Neville and Ginny, pulled an odd looking cloak over his shoulders, and simply vanished. Shit. "I'll go after him," Ed said, tugging Alphonse after him.

"Don't vorry!" Al said. "Vee'll make sure nozing happens to him!"

In his peripheral vision, Ed could see Neville and Ginny look at each other and shrug. But his eyes were zeroed on the ground, watching for disembodied feet. Now, whatever it was that made Harry invisible worked considerably better when it was only covering one person, but very occasionally Ed could see the flash of Harry's white trainers, and again they seemed to be following someone.

"It's the boy in green," said Alphonse, and from there they followed him as opposed to the occasional glimpses of Harry's feet.

Zabini – if Ed remembered rightly – disappeared into a compartment and the door was open just a little too long. Ed swore, and Alphonse carefully tapped his head with the massive ash wand. It felt like a broken egg trickling over his hair. Eeewwww. But then Al was tapping his own head, and in a trickling motion, his body began to blend with the hallway beyond them.

"It's not as good as whatever Harry uses, but it should be good enough that they can't see us through the door."

Ed nodded, and pressed his face to the glass. Inside, the boy they had made their deal with was sulking. Ed knew that he wasn't sixteen like most people were sixteen, but this was ridiculous. "Is this just because he wasn't invited to Slughorn's thing?"

"Looks like," said Al, shaking his head.

"The fuck?"

Inside the compartment, a pretty girl was draping herself across the blonde boy's lap. "Well, clearly Draco, Slughorn has no taste."

"I don't need you to tell me that, Pansy."

She looked momentarily hurt, but shook the expression off quickly. Ed rolled his eyes. "Seriously?"

"They look kinda-" Alphonse paused, tilting his head. "Sweet?"

"Adorable," said Ed. In truth, Malfoy looked like he was merely putting up with the attentions. "I'm sure it's not because our erstwhile partner thinks of having a girlfriend as a status symbol."

Al winced and Ed knew that as naïve as Al might be, he saw what Ed did. A boy desperately trying to cling to the trappings of his status. "He just has some growing up to do," Alphonse said, taking the defensive.

"You're only a year younger than him, Al."

"But we both know I'm not fifteen like most people are fifteen."

Ed snorted, knowing that he'd just had the same thought, he peered back into the compartment. He wondered where exactly Harry had hidden himself. "I swear if we have to sit here for the rest of the night to make sure Malfoy doesn't do something stupid, I may just go in and sit down next to them."

"We probably will," Alphonse said. "But barging in would accomplish exactly nothing. Wait, look. I think Malfoy just noticed Harry."

Ed groaned, and half to cause a diversion and half in the hope of oblivion, he slammed his head against the door of the compartment. Everyone inside flinched, looked. Malfoy stood up, strode to the door, yanked it open.

"No one here," he said to the cabin behind him, but his eyes were focused on the disillusioned Alphonse.

"Don't do anysing stupid, Draco," said Al, and Malfoy didn't flinch. Face carefully unconcerned he turned back to his compartment and resettled himself next to the girl. Alphonse switched back into Amestrian. "Was that wise, brother?"

"It worked, didn't it?"

"I think Harry's planning on staying here for the rest of the ride," Al said. "We can either wait here for the ride to end, or we can make our way back over here later."

Ed contemplated that possibility. "We're almost at Hogwarts."

"You do know what it's actually called!"

Ed rolled his eyes. Hogwarts was an astronomically stupid name – it would be hard to forget. "Of course I know what's called. I'm teaching there starting tomorrow."

"We are close." The hazy blob of Al's chameleon body twisted to look down the almost empty corridor. Groups of one gender or another were briefly stepping out of compartments to allow the occupants inside to change their clothes. "I should put on the uniform."

"It's a stupid uniform," Ed said.

"You think all uniforms are stupid. I can count on one hand the amount of times you wore your dress blues."

Ed shrugged. "I'll wait here. You go change."

The sound of footsteps was the first indicator that Al was doing as suggested. Safely past what was visible from the window to Malfoy's compartment, Alphonse winked into clear view. Ed shuddered. He was going to have to square with Al being a wizard eventually, but he wasn't happy about it. Alphonse disappeared into the compartment they started in, Luna and Hermione waiting outside of it already changed, and Ed tried not to feel like he was losing his brother.

Alphonse wasn't out of sight for long, and part of Ed wondered if he changed his clothes with magic. He certainly looked the part, stepping back outside in black robes that reached the floor. Ed felt vaguely nauseous at the sight. Even knowing that there was a fairly ordinary school uniform underneath it didn't help when all Ed could see of it was the knot of a white tie. Atop his head was the legendary black witches' hat. None of the other students were wearing their stupid hat, why did Al have to wear his?

Alphonse tapped his wand to the tip of the hat, and once again took on the colors of the corridor behind him.

When the blur was close enough to once again truly distinguish, Ed forced a smile. "You look like a wizard."

"Weird, isn't it?"

"What explanation did you give the group?"

"Just that we're keeping an eye on Harry," Al said, the ripple in the corridor indicating him moving closer to Malfoy's compartment door, stepped back as it opened. The pretty girl stepped out of the compartment, her uniform in her arms, and headed to the back of the train. Her eyes might have lingered a little too long on Ed's quasi-visible blob, but he could see her dismiss the oddity as quickly as she noticed it.

"You're getting paranoid, Pansy," she said aloud, cross.

Rightfully paranoid, Ed decided. If this girl ended up being one of his students, he would have to find a way to get that across to her. Rightfully paranoid.

She disappeared into the loo at the back of the train, ostensibly to change clothes, while Malfoy and the male contingent of his posse changed inside. "We're almost there," Ed said.

The girl, Pansy, returned to the compartment in her robes just as the train came to a remarkably smooth halt. When Malfoy said to go on without him, her eyes became dark and hard. But she gestured at the other boys to follow. Ed and Al caught the door as the biggest of the boys let it go, slipped inside the compartment.

The door shut almost as it should. Malfoy, at this point, already had Harry on the floor.

"Let him go," Al said, flickering into sight. Harry looked relieved, insomuch as his expression could even change.

"Now why should I do that?"

"You vant Moldy-man dead, yes," Ed said. Al tapped his want on his head, and Ed knew that he was now visible. He looked down at his torso. Yup. Visible.

"Shut up, Elric," said Malfoy. "Why are you even here? You're a muggle, aren't you?"

Ed shrugged. He wanted to see Malfoy's face when his appointment to alchemy professor was announced. This wouldn't give him quite the entrance he wanted.

"Zee enemy ov your enemy is your friend." Al flicked his wand at Harry, who promptly scrambled to his feet. He was not yet in his robes. "I know zat zee two ov you are not friends, but perhaps you should be."

"You can't trust him," Harry said, pointing his wand at Malfoy.

"Can't I?" Al said, and for a moment Ed was terrified that Al would tell Harry everything. Al seemed to be doing a lot of sharing lately. But he didn't. "He's in a fery bad situation."

"One he chose."

Malfoy scoffed, hand tightening around the wand he held. Alphonse put a hand on each boy's shoulder. "One his father chose," Al corrected.

"It can be hard to leave zee path chosen vor you by your fazer," Ed said. "Alphonse and I taught ourselves alchemy to veel close to our fazer, and even at zee time I sought he vas shitty bastard."

"Why?" Harry kept his wand pointed at Malfoy's nose. "If you thought he was such a bastard."

"Vee did it vor our mozer," Al said. "At least zat is vat vee told ourselves. Is zat really why? Probably not. Every child wants to veel close to zeir parents, whether zee parent deserves it or not."

"Yeah and what would you know of fathers, Potter," Malfoy said. "Where's yours?"

Harry forwent the wand and lunged at Malfoy. Al caught him on the shoulder long enough for Ed to get a firm grip on him. Ed glared at Malfoy. "Zee fuck, Malfoy?"

"Your overlord killed my parents," Harry said, trying to jolt from Ed's grasp. "And maybe I don't have much personal experience with fathers, but I know enough to know that Lucius Malfoy is a bloody piece of shit!"

"Yes," said Malfoy, crossing his arms. His wand dangled under one elbow, held by thumb and forefinger. But even so Ed could tell he was ready to draw. "And the Dark Lord is my overlord. So butt out."

Al looked at Malfoy exasperatedly. "Zat is not helpful." He turned to Harry, said, "Ve're staging a rescue. So are you in or not, Mr. Harry?"

Malfoy glared at Al unpleasantly enough that Ed wanted to let Harry go. Harry put up a particularly large fight, so Ed did. Harry rather unexpectedly did not lunge. He hastily snatched his wand from Harry. "What do you mean, a rescue?"

"Ollivander," Ed said. "Malfoy's our in, so vee are getting our friend."

"The last time I staged a rescue, it was a trap. The man I was rescuing hadn't even been taken, and he died trying to get me out," Harry said bitterly. Malfoy smirked. "Get that smirk off your face ferret. I put your precious father in Azkaban that night."

The smirk vanished, and Ed snorted. "Bos ov you need to stop zis bullshit. It's not a trap, Potter. Vee vouldn't haff even dragged you into zis iv you hadn't decided to put yourself in a stupid situation."

"Anyone can see your feet, Harry," Alphonse said, not unkindly. "You haff to be more careful. Now, you don't have to decide now iv you're going to help us, but I suggest vee go back to your compartment, get you changed, and go join our friends."

"You're friends?" Malfoy said, tucking his wand back into his sleeve. "I didn't figure the two of you for more of Potter's lackeys."

"Go to your friends," Ed said to him. He wasn't Potter's lackey, but he wasn't going to have this argument _now_. "Vee can talk about zis later. Alphonse, you should hurry iv you vant to catch up vis zee virst years."

"Right," Al said. "I forgot about that." He dashed from the room, and Ed shook his head.

"Let's go, Harry." Harry scowled, but complied. Ed gestured at him to hurry. "You have to get changed."

"Fine."

By the time they got there, their original compartment was empty. But quick enough, Harry was dressed in his robes and Ed had on his red outer coat. They just barely made it to the carriages in time for Harry to board, glaring morosely back at the train. Waiting by the snout of a very odd horse for Ed was the stern-faced woman Ed had met his first night at the Burrow.

"Come along now, Professor Elric," she said, and Ed could not quite deny himself the title of professor. Instead, he got into the carriage she indicated, pretended the horses didn't bother him, and wondered what Hogwarts would be like.

* * *

 _ **Word Count**_ _ **:**_ 5,673

Tell me what you thought!


	18. Sorting

_**Author's Note**_ _ **:**_ Class has started up for me, and watching my time dwindle is painful. On the bright side, I decided to transfer to a local university after some family tragedy, so the three hours a day I now need to spend on the bus gives me time to write. Whoot.

 _ **Disclaimer**_ _ **:**_ I don't own Hiromu Arakawa's _Fullmetal Alchemist_ nor J.K. Rowling's _Harry Potter_. I don't ever claim the contrary and I make no money from the online publication of this free-to-read fanwork.

* * *

The Scientist's Lament

Chapter 18

Sorting

* * *

Ed wasn't quite prepared for the ruin of Hogwarts castle. Apparently, the first years were being taken on a winding scenic route that would give them an even more appalling few of the crumbling turrets, collapsed arches, and dilapidated brickwork as it emerged from the gloom of the evening. Ed couldn't comprehend that there might be a view more awful than the once he was being treated to. What were they trying to do? Traumatize the eleven year olds? That was the only endgame that made the remotest sense.

Somehow.

"Nobody told me zat zee school is a ruin," Ed said. "Vat zee fuck."

Stern looked down her nose at him. "It's an unofficial tradition. We wouldn't want to take away the awe of your first sighting."

Ed looked back out of the carriage, realizing that they were moving rather faster than the rest of the carriages. They overtook the one in the front. "Awe my ass. It's hideous."

"Ah," she said, putting a hand on his head and her wand to his temple.

"Vat zee shit?"

Before Ed could bat the wand away, here was a glow from the end of it and suddenly the ruin wasn't a ruin anymore. They were rounded a turn and suddenly Ed was blindsided by a perfect and stunning view of the functional castle. Stern tucked her wand back up her sleeve. "Muggle repelling charms. I was supposed to perform it before I brought you into the carriage, but you somehow managed to get that far without help."

"I realize now zat it helps to haff a purpose viz zese charms," Ed said. "It's easier to ignore zem vhen you haff specific reasons to bypass zem and rudimentary knowledge of zee entrance you're trying to go srough."

"And what was your purpose?"

Ed snorted. "Trying to get Harry off zee fucking train."

Stern sighed. "Tell me you'll clean up the language around the children."

Ed shrugged, brushing his bangs back from his face. "I'll try."

"You can't tell me it's a habit," Stern said, frowning at him. "English is a relatively new thing for you."  
Ed laughed. "Alphonse burned my swear dictionary."

"And yet you learned them anyway, evidently."

"Ov course! I had one ov my Chemistry students write me a new one vor extra credit. Between you and me, zat is zee only vay he passed zee course. Only gave him zee opportunity because he vas actually trying."

"You're serious."

Ed reached into the inside breast pocket of his red coat, pulled out the little handwritten book, and handed it over to his colleague. "Absolutely."

Scrawled across the cover in surprisingly neat letters was the title: Pocket Guide to Swearing in English by Frankie Whelan.  
McGonagall took it and opened the booklet, snorted at the more formal heading on the inside. Frankie Whelan, Chemistry, Mr. Elric, Period 1. "He took this seriously," she said, flipping through the pages and eyeing the carefully aligned columns of swears, their English connotations, and the German equivalent.

"He had a passion vor slang and could not remember chemical concepts no matter how vrequently he came to my office hours. And Al vouldn't dare destroy a gift vrom student." Ed cackled at that last bit. That had, in fact, been the real end game.  
Stern handed the book back to him. Ed rather unnecessarily smoothed the pages before tucking it back into his pocket and looking out of the window. "Vhy are vee going so fast?"

"I need to be there in time to bring the first years in and you need to be there in time to be settled at the staff table before the upper years get there."

"Vhy?" Ed said. "Vat is zee point?"

"Dumbledore likes to have the teachers there as a united front during the sorting. Besides, I'm sure you would like to see your younger brother sorted."

Ed remembered some vague bullshit about houses. But did he even want to see Alphonse go through those rites of passage specific to wizards? He shook himself free of that thought. Edward wanted to cheer Al on through everything, even if there was a blossoming worry in his chest about being irrevocably separated from his brother.

"I appreciate zat," he managed to say.

The carriage pulled up to the castle and, even despite McGonagall's spell, Ed had to fight against an irrational impulse to run away from the plainly bad news dilapidated wreck that half of his brain still saw Hogwarts as. But Stern placed her hands between his shoulder blades and shoved him through the doors. Once he was through them, the feeling faded entirely.

"Sank you," he said, English suddenly nigh impossible. "Efen viz zee spell sing zat muggle repel shit vas," Ed shuddered. He didn't have words for what it was, let alone in English.

"The founders were unfriendly to muggles," McGonagall said, leading him through another set of doors to a giant room with five tables. "It was during the middle ages. You can't blame them."

Ed could blame them as much as he damn well pleased. He looked up, to avoid the curious stares of the adults situated on the fifth table that was set on a sort of elevated stage from the vacant other four tables. What he saw there was enough to almost make him forgive those selfsame founders.

During the trek into the building, the sky had turned almosy full dark. A wild array of stars were scattered across the what must be the sky, a last streak of pink invading the midnight blue from the west.

Granger had made both Ed and Al read Hogwarts: A History so he logically knew that there was a ceiling there and it was simply under a few powerful enchantments, but even having the information did nothing to detract from the sheer awe of actually seeing it.  
There were a few chuckles, and that brought Ed back to reality. His attention snapped not only to Stern but also to the staff table.  
In the center of it sat Old Man Dumbledore himself and scattered around that half of the table were the people Ed assumed were his coworkers. The seating arrangement was clearly to discourage general hullaballoo throughout the rest of the hall, as every single seat was placed to face the room.

In this world, Ed knew, there was a painting the scene greatly resembled. But he couldn't quite put his finger on which. He knew there was a betrayer in it though, and the irrational part of his brain wondered how far the comparison held true.

To Dumbledore's right there were two open seats. Ed assumed that the closer one was for Stern herself and that the one to the right of it was for him. On the other side of those seats sat a morose and greasy looking man. Sandwiched between Stern and Sullen then. Fantastic.

Ed was thrilled that to Dumbledore's left sat Nyorok, clearly in attendance to help with the distribution of wands to first years. To Nyorok's left sat a man who was a little taller and a little less gnarled. That must be the Lit Candle person, Ed thought. What was his name? Litwick? Something. But Nyorok must have situated himself near the half goblin on purpose, putting himself next to the only person besides Ed in the Hogwarts staff that he could actually abide by. Fair enough.

"Ceiling's impressive," Ed said. "Slept enough nights under the stars that I appreciate a system that gives you the beauty without the inconveniences." That brought the chuckles to a dead halt. A good portion of the staff looked disturbed at the notion of their newest and youngest staff member sleeping under the stars, but Ed ignored the concern. There wasn't much he'd take back about his unconventional childhood. It had all served some purpose in making him the person he was today at sixteen years old.

And for all of the pain and uncertainty, Alphonse had his body back. That effectively negated the last of his serious regrets. Sleeping outside only got annoying in winter or when it rained.

Ed stepped up the elevated platform and stood across from Nyorok and Litwick. "You must be Edward Elric," Litwick said. "I am Fillius Flitwick, the charms professor. Please call me Fillius."

Oh. Flitwick. What kind of stupid name was that? At least Litwick made sense, if you were set on naming your son after a candle. But Flitwick? Ed nearly stuck out his left hand before remembering that there was no good reason not to extend his right as was custom. He adjusted, and gave his new colleague as firm a handshake as his recovering grip strength would allow. "Call me Ed. I'm looking forward to working with you."

Fillius beamed. "You know, I was thrilled to hear that you enjoy a friendship with Garrick. There aren't many wizards who can keep up with him!"

Ed wasn't sure to grin at Fillius's lack of hesitation at the look of him or to be slightly insulted by the lack of emphasis on wizard. Either Dumbledore had not mentioned Ed's non-magical status or Fillius had entirely forgotten. He wasn't sure which scenario he liked better.  
But either way, of all the staff, Flitwick was the only one to reveal no hesitation in extending friendship and so Ed decided not to try and read into slights that may or may not even be there.

"Where have you and Nyorok put the wand station?"

"There's a back room to the Great Hall," Fillius said. "I set up a table and arranged the wands by wood, length, and core."

Ed nodded. "As good a system as any."

"We were planning on having any students who need one come up after the feast," said the woman next to Fillius. "That way they don't have to single themselves out right away before or after being sorted."

"And you are?" The woman had a kindness to her that struck Ed in a spot close to his chest. This was a woman who was clearly hardworking, kind, with a little mischievousness thrown in, who took absolutely no shit. A Paninya, perhaps. Just older and accustomed to being entrusted with the care and keeping of hundreds of rambunctious little shits, and without the trauma and poverty of Paninya's early life.

"Pomona Sprout," she said, with a gleam in her eye. "I would be somewhat out of the way, as I spend most of my time in the greenhouses, but feel free to come to me for any help, if ever I'm the most convenient option."

Ed smiled. "Thank you," he said. If ever he did decide to visit the greenhouses, he would probably need Sprout's help just to get back into the main building!  
That was a depressing thought. Every time Ed went outside it would be a fight to return to the castle. Shit.

"As to the wands," Flitwick interjected. "Each of the students for whom acquisition was an issue was given a notice in their letters about the plan. So they know where to go and when."

"And I didn't varrant a heads up?"

Nyorok snorted. "There isn't plenty of time to inform you now? I didn't realize that you absolutely had to have a note. I take back what I said about you being saner than wizards."

Comparing someone to a wizard was probably the worst insult in Nyorok's arsenal but his tone was light enough that he may have been joking. Maybe.

Ed glared at him good naturedly. "Oh yeah, because I'm zee one who educates children in a castle."

"Well," Nyorok said. "Technically you are."

Ed cursed. He would be teaching pre-teen and teenaged wizards alchemy in a castle in the morning. Right. "Zee crazy is contagious. I'd vatch out Nyorok, you spend a lot ov time around zem."

Nyorok glowered and twisted around to spread his ire to the various wizards sitting at the table. The bulk of them looked vaguely offended, but Flitwick was nodding along. Sprout and Dumbledore both looked amused, and McGonagall had no visible change to her expression except in that the corners of her tightly pursed mouth might have pulled up just a smidgeon.

Ed rolled his eyes and stomped around to the side everyone seemed to be sitting on and took his place in the seat he assumed was for him. He stuck out his hand to the sullen man on his right. "Edward Elric."

The man scowled at him. He looked highly offended at the gesture. "Severus Snape."

"I took a shower zis morning," Ed said suddenly. "So maybe you stepped in dog shit, but I hope I'm not zee reason vhy you look like you're smelling somezing foul."

"Are you planning to be this crass around your students?" Snape's lip curled when he spoke and Ed wasn't sure if he was supposed to be hurt by this over-the-top expression of disdain.

Ed shrugged. "I find it helps. Zee more a student relates to zeir teacher, zee harder zey tend to try."

Snape's expression turned into an outright scowl. "Leniency gets a class nowhere."

Ed stared at him. "Vhen zee fuck did I say lenient? If zey don't step up to bat zey haff to be out."

"Excuse me, Edward. Did you say out?" Old Man Dumbledore peered around where McGonagall was taking her seat.

Ed nodded. "Zee price is too high. I vill be taking every precaution against rebounding arrays. Zat means zat if a child doesn't understand certain concepts and consistently doesn't put in zee necessary vork, zey cannot be allowed to continue." Snape looked vaguely impressed, now.

"I'm afraid we don't kick students permanently out of classes in the middle of a semester at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said.

"Is not a Hogwarts sing," Ed said. "It's a me sing. If you vant me to give zem bullshit grade vor semester, I vill. But I von't keep on students who are a danger to zemselves or to zeir classmates. Alchemy is not a core class, I don't see vhy it matters."

Dumbledore sighed, and Ed could see the mental math happening behind his eyes. Ed very much liked being a man that was exhausting to argue with.  
Well. Boy, he supposed.

"Fine," Dumbledore said. "If you insist."  
Snape's expression had taken a very sudden turn from murderous to hero worshipping. Ed nodded at him, and turned his attention to the main floor of the hall. The big double doors on the end had been flung wide and students began to enter in a flood of pointed black hats.

McGonagall had not taken the seat available to her and now she disappeared. It wasn't until the crush of upper year students found their seats that Stern reappeared, a herd of small children and Alphonse following at her heels.

In her hands was an incredibly ragged hat and a wobbly stool that were placed front and center of the room.

Once settled, with the first year students fanning about her to give the stool a rather wide berth, she pulled a list from a pocket and began to read off names.

What followed ranked among the strangest non-lethal things Ed had ever seen. The hat began to sing, first years cloistered around it and all. Ed spared a glance at Alphonse. He looked thunderstruck. Ed winced; he was pretty thunderstruck himself. It took more self control than Ed had even six months ago to keep himself from demanding answers right then and there in front of everyone.

Teaching high school chemistry had taught Ed the value of patience, somewhat.

The singing didn't last long – the song gave a rundown on houses and the history of the school itself and encouraged students to look beyond the house divisions before falling silent.

Once it became clear that the rip in the fabric at the front of the hat wasn't going to open a second time, McGonagall called the name of the first student.

The hat was perched on the student's head and after a moment it declared *Slytherin!* to some applause. The little girl stood, placed the hat back on the stool, and went to the table dressed in green and silver where the pretty dark haired girl from Malfoy's compartment tersely pointed at a seat.

The line went by quickly. There were a few students who stayed on the stool for minutes, but the vast majority required the deliberation of a few moments before being placed at a table. And then it was done.

Alphonse stood awkwardly by himself, having not been called with the rest of the Es, while McGonagall rolled up her list and turned to the staff table. The Old Man stood.

"Welcome Students, new and old! The time for speeches is not yet upon us, but there is one matter of business that must still be attended to before we can tuck into our feast! Please join me in welcoming the first transfer student Hogwarts has had the pleasure of receiving in over three hundred years, young Alphonse Elric!"

Al jumped about a foot in the air as the collective gazes of the student body turned back to him. Stern gestured him to the stool. He sat, body limp and surprised. Sheepishly, he pulled the conical black uniform hat off his head, and ducked as the Sorting Hat replaced it.

For a good five minutes, silence reigned. Whispers swept through the room. Ed spared a look at Malfoy, who had not yet noticed Ed at the head table. He was shaking his head, no doubt cursing the rather public entrance of his new ally.  
Ed looked back to Al, and finally the hat's rip opened. "Ravenclaw!"

There was an audible _Aw hell!_ from the Gryffindor table, but Ravenclaw was enthusiastic about their welcome. Al gamely plucked the hat from his head and joined his new classmates, sitting opposite the Luna girl.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said. "Tuck in!"

Immediately, the hall erupted in a cacophony of voices. Ed shook his head and reached for a chicken leg. "Don't they use tongs in Germany?" said the Snape man. Ed was torn between sheepishly reaching for the tongs or just wrapping his hand around the leg that had caught his fancy.

He decided on the power move. "Tongs?" he said in an innocent voice. "Vat is zat?" He tore into the drumstick.  
McGonagall, who had just sat down, snorted. Snape looked dumbfounded. Ed smirked around a mouthful of chicken and very pointedly used the tongs to scoop some green beans onto his plate. "Ov course vee fucking use tongs."

Snape scowled, but Ed had realized that was the man's permanent expression. So he playfully punched the potions professor in the shoulder. This would be a long year if he didn't manage to befriend his coworkers.

* * *

Draco Malfoy had always considered Albus Dumbledore to be a fool but, he'd never viewed him as a personal foil until he'd been ordered to kill him. And suddenly, he hated Dumbledore like he'd never hated him before.

This was thrown into sharp relief when Dumbledore felt the need to announce the arrival of his new ally with the sort of fanfare only a Gryffindor would think up. True enough, the wizard Elric's (the only Elric worth noting, really) arrival would have been almost more conspicuous had nothing been said. Five complete and entirely unalike rumors would have been circulating by the time dinner was over. Still, it was the principle of the thing.

Alphonse Elric, thankfully, had not been sorted into the house of the brash and brazen. It was a small miracle, honestly, with the mudblood having already been brought into Potter's little crew. Draco was not thankful for 6, but he was thankful for that. So with the white trim of Al's robes turning blue and bronze, he relaxed.

Throughout dinner, he did not look at the staff table. He did not wonder where the elder, muggle, Elric was. That Edward fellow was a muggle anywho. What did he matter?

Young Draco Malfoy was in for a nasty fucking surprise when Dumbledore announced the staff changes.

 _What!_

* * *

 _ **Word Count** **:**_ You know what none of my counters are agreeing right now. Somewhere between 3400 and 3600.

I wanted more to happen in this chapter, I'm not gonna lie. But we somehow ended up well past three thousand words and I knew that if I added more I'd end up saddled with doubling the length. It's September 13th. School is ramping up for me. This chapter needed to get out.

On the bright side, I have a pretty clear idea of where the next chapter is gonna take us and with any luck I'll be able to get it out pretty quickly depsite school and work.

Hope you enjoyed, tell me what you thought!


	19. Beginnings

**Author's Note :** Welcome back, folks! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

 **Disclaimer** **:** WolfishMoon doesn't own _Harry Potter_ or _Fullmetal Alchemist_ , respectively the properties of J.K. Rowling and Hiromu Arakawa. She never claims otherwise and makes NO MONEY from the online publication of this free-to-read fanwork.

* * *

Chapter 19

Beginnings

* * *

"He's a muggle!" Draco shouted across the Great Hall. Damn subtlety, he couldn't stay silent and calculating when a _muggle_ was supposed to teach him Alchemy. He'd known Dumbledore had a screw loose but to not even check to make sure his teaching staff were wizards!?

"Indeed," said the headmaster. Indeed? _Indeed?_

"You knew?" Draco was standing, and somewhere in him his inner serpent was admonishing him for being so very Gryffindor. Well. There was time to be embarrassed later.

"Of course. I must wonder how you knew, Mr. Malfoy. But no matter. Professor Elric has demonstrated that alchemy has no need of magic to function, and he is therefore fully qualified for the position."

'Professor Elric' for his part was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chair, looking utterly unconcerned. "So, I don't haff your magic bullshit," he said. "I can transmute circles around your best."

"Prove it," Draco said. Draco had seen proof, of course, but there was a part of him that was terrified of the consequences. A talented muggle? His muggle ally not being talented? He did not know which thought was worse, and he didn't want to examine it.

In different ways and for different reasons, either answer was disastrous.

"I don't need to prove myself to you," he said. "I am provessor here, and zat should be proov enough vor anyone."

Draco nodded, slowly. He couldn't even fall back on the old favorite: _My father will hear of this!_ No. Lucius Malfoy was in prison and no one cared one whit about anything he had to say. Right. The other go to favorite, then, would be: _Afraid, are you?_ But that too was inapplicable in the situation. Edward Elric clearly fell under the category of 'Suicidally Gryffindor.'

"The simple truth," Dumbledore cut in. Elric the Elder flinched at the word, it was plain to see, but Dumbledore either did not notice or he continued undeterred. "Is that there is not any wizard in Great Britain even capable of teaching the subject."

Alchemy was largely a forgotten art. Draco had known that, but somehow he could not conceive that a foreign muggle was the most qualified person in Britain. Suddenly, Draco felt the eyes of the entire hall on him. Theodore Nott in particular was looking at him like he'd lost his mind. Slowly, slowly, Draco sat back down. Clearly, there was not a fight here that he could win.

So instead, Draco burned, trapped in the moment where he had declared himself to be capable of besting the muggle's abilities with access to a proper teacher.

 _Oops._

* * *

By the time the feast was over, and Alphonse was being led to Ravenclaw tower with the first years, it had been hours since he and Ed had been separated on the train. Alphonse had become accustomed to being without his brother in the day - the Order of the Phoenix held him in the Burrow as a sort of collateral while Ed went to the muggle high school with Hermione. At night, though, Alphonse had not been without his brother since they'd landed in Berlin.

The boy and girl that led Alphonse and the first years up the steps looked to be roughly Ed's age (was that roughly Al's age too? Ed had always been so protective that Al forgot sometimes that Ed was only a year older than him). The boy officiously took the lead, and the girl seemed more amused by it than offended. Instead of fighting her cohort for the lead, she lingered and let the line of eleven-year-olds plus Al pass her by. She caught Al at the end though. "I know that you can't do much of anything about it, but she's in your year," she said. "And you seem to be hitting it off. Luna gets bullied. Watch out for her if you can and watch out for yourself too if people try to retaliate."

Al looked at the girl who'd pulled him aside. "I don't sink she's all zat strange," he said.

She smiled, flipped a sheaf of dark black hair over her shoulder. "Then I hope the two of you become friends. I'm Padma Patil, by the way, and that's Anthony Goldstein. If ever you need anything, you'll come to us first."

"Thank you," Al said. "I will. To all three."

"Good." With that, Padma shepherded him back into line, up the flights of stairs, finally coming to a stop before a portrait. The portrait smiled at them. "First years!" she said. "Welcome!"

Alphonse flinched, looked at the floor. He had read about the portraits, of course. But it still hurt to look at them, a deep pain that gathered alike to dread in the pit of his stomach. He was not sure why they'd had to stop at one until she said a riddle. "I suppose I'll start you with the classic," she said. "What has four legs in the morning, two in the afternoon, and three in the evening?"

"Does anyone know?" Padma asked, gesturing at Alphonse to keep quiet. He hadn't heard this riddle before, but he guessed that it was a common one to this universe, because even the officious Anthony Goldstein wore an indulgent smile as he watched the eleven-year-olds ponder the question.

These children were not eleven like Al had been eleven and he was torn between finding them utterly endearing and being unspeakably jealous. _That's not kind, Al_ he thought to himself. _It's a good thing that these kids get to have a real childhood. A good thing_.

One child was hopping up and down in excitement. "I know this one!"

"Have you heard it before or have you figured it out?" Anthony asked.

She pouted. "I've heard it before."

"What about you?" Padma said to a child with a particularly thoughtful look on her face.

"I don't know," she said. "But I think. Maybe. If 'day' is metaphorical. Is it a person? A baby crawling, an adult walking, an elder with a crutch?"

The portrait was delighted. "Correct!" she said in a whimsical, sing song voice that seemed to be ripped straight from Luna. "Welcome to Ravenclaw!"

The portrait swung inwards to reveal the house common room. Alphonse would have to interact with it every day. Oh. He made an effort to go in at the very last. When even Padma shrugged and went before him, he turned to the portrait. "Vat is it like?"

"I can think," the portrait said. "If that's what you're asking. I thought I would be little more than a memory, when I commissioned this portrait to be painted. But I can think, surely enough."

"I'm sorry," Alphonse said, blinking away tears in the corner of his eyes. "I am so sorry."

"Don't be. Hogwarts is the best place in the world to be, for a painting. There is almost as much ground to cover within our collective backgrounds as the school and forest combined."

Alphonse nodded, trying not to cry. "I'll try," he said and stepped through the portrait hole.

Anthony was pacing in an anxious circle beyond the portrait hole. "Alphonse!" he said. "I already showed the first years their dorm. Let me show you the fifth-year accommodations."

"Thanks," Al said, careful of his th, and let himself be led up an additional five flights of stairs.

"Seventh years are at the very top of the tower, and it goes down by year after that. As a fifth year, your bunk will be in the room third from the top."

That would be one way to bulk up his legs - perhaps even to the point of one-upping Brother! Al may have always won their fights, but by bulk strength alone Ed was the better fighter. Ed was more creative, fended better against their enemies.

Brother would never throw a fight on purpose, but Al wondered sometimes if Ed subconsciously went easy on him. It was the only thing that explained how Al even managed to win even the fight over Winry's hand all those years ago.

He was pulled from his rose-tinted memory by Anthony poking his shoulder. "Are you alright Al? We're here."

Sure enough, just off this last flight of stairs was a door labeled with a list of names. _Alphonse Elric_. That was him. Al tentatively pushed the door open, thanked Anthony, and stepped inside. "Hi."

"Hey," said one of the boys. "I think you're by the window."

"Right," Al said. Sure enough, the trunk that he'd bought in Diagon Alley was resting at the foot of the bed by the window. "Vell. I'm Alphonse Elric. Vat's your name?"

"Gerald," he said. "But my friends call me Gerry."

"Call me Al, zen."

"Hogwarts hasn't had a transfer or late start since 1542," Gerry said, putting aside the book that had been open on his lap. "And it was a Gryffindor that time. Can't believe Ravenclaw, class of 1999 got so lucky!"

Al twitched nervously. Lucky. Right. "I'm glad to be here!" There was a shaky false cheer to his voice that he could not quite make genuine. He knew that at this moment Ed was probably being shown his classroom and his office and his own bedroom, but there was a small and irrational part of Al that asked _Wo ist Bruder?_ _Woher?_

"Vee haff early start tomorrow," Al said, English suddenly almost impossible. "I sink I schould get ready vor bed."

"Huh?"

Whoops. "I need sleep," Al said, trying again and brandishing the pajamas he'd pulled from his trunk. "Vor class tomorrow. Can vee talk more in zee morning?"

"You're right," said Gerry, picking his book back up. "I'm just trying to make the most of my last night of freedom. After tomorrow, all of my personal reading time will go down the drain. I'll draw my curtains so the light doesn't bother you."

"Sank you," Al said. "Enjoy your book!"

Once the curtains were drawn, they blocked sound so completely that they must have been bespelled. Alphonse, who still had trouble sleeping, was not sure if that was a good thing. At least no one would hear it if he woke up screaming.

* * *

Ed caught Malfoy in the hallway after the Welcome Feast, smuggled him behind a tapestry and transmuted them past the wall behind. "Are you fucking stupid?"

Malfoy's glare was defiant, clearly masking deep seated embarrassment. Ed snorted, and the glare turned offended. "At least I'm not a muggle," he spat. Ed _hated_ that word.

"I could kick your ass so easy iv I vanted to," Ed said. "Makes no difference."

"Giving in to violent muggle tendencies, are you?"

Fucking brat. "Zee system zat has a one-hit-kill curse is less violent? Are you serious?"

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "At least you've done some research."

Ed rolled his eyes. "If you go srough your life assuming people you deem inferior are univormly stupid enough not to investigate zee enemy, you are going to be dead by zee time you're twenty-five."

"Shut up," Draco said.

"Oh, like you haff any place to talk about keeping your mouth shut! You realize zat I vill haff to talk to zee crazy Old Man about zis right? He vill want answers about zee shit you said tonight!"

"Well," Malfoy said, paused. His expression contorted in the dim light let through by the air vents Ed had left to their pocket in the wall. He nodded after a moment, said, "Dumbledore would be happy about it, wouldn't he?"

"Do you want to involve zee Old Man in zee plan? Because I vas pretty sure you didn't vant to involve zee Old Man in zee plan. _I_ didn't vant to involve zee Old Man in zee plan."

Again, pain flashed across Malfoy's face. "Well, I may have lost us that chance tonight. But we can adapt."

Ed supposed that was true. They could adapt.

"Vee need to do zis soon, or it vill be too late."

Malfoy met Ed's eyes, and Ed was startled by the determination there. "I know," he said. "We will."

For once, Ed believed him.

With a clap, the wall they'd hidden inside of peeled open, depositing them behind the tapestry. Ed sent Draco out, followed after five minutes.

Tomorrow would be the first day of classes and Ed still had no idea where his classroom was. Or his bed.

Somehow, Dumbledore refrained from accosting him before he found said bed. Ed did not sleep well that first night. Without Al being solid flesh and bone just a few feet away it was harder to dispel the nightmares of a lifeless suit of armor with a worn-out seal.

Ed gave up at four in the morning in favor of reviewing his lesson plans. The little wizards weren't going to be getting into the meat of any of their subjects today, so the plan was mostly introductory. Did Hogwarts have printers? _Shit_.

Ed spent two hours hastily sketching out a hundred periodic tables before it was time to go to breakfast. He carefully rolled the fingers on his left hand - definitely some cramping there. But it was a good pain. It was better than being impaled, at any rate.

"Did you sleep well?" Stern said, when Ed joined her at the table and began loading up his plate of food.

Ed scowled. "I started writing out periodic tables at vour in zee morning. You tell me."

"Ask for help, next time," she said, raising her eyebrows.

"I don't zink you vant to be up at vour in zee morning helping me hand write _scientific_ concepts."

She raised an eyebrow. "No. But if you'd brought one to breakfast I could have made copies with magic."

Ed swore, not sure if it was targeted at himself for not thinking of it or if it was targeted at magic for making up these crazy shortcuts.

Ed pretended that a printer wasn't a similar shortcut, and that he couldn't have made those copies alchemically, if he'd wanted to. Teacher wouldn't have approved. Ed didn't go through his life basing his decisions on whether Teacher would approve or not, but in his more lucid moments he could admit that her opinions had more of an effect on him than he pretended.

He remembered what happened when he ignored her advice.

Ed was distracted from his thoughts when Dumbledore joined them at the table. "Edward!" He said. "Would you mind coming to my office after dinner to discuss your first day of classes?"

Ed scowled at him - there was no way in hell they were going to be talking about his first day of classes, he was sure. "Yeah, alright Old Man."

Dumbledore gave him a serene look. "I wish you the best of luck today." For one moment, there was nothing Ed wanted more than to slap that serene look off his face.

Instead, Ed thanked him. If this was what being an adult was like, Ed wanted no damn part of it.

He ate his breakfast as quickly as possible and fled to his classroom instead. "I'fe got shit to set up," he said.

Ed had hoped that his first class of the day would be the fifth years with Alphonse, but no such luck. It was the sixth years, rowdy and angry and yelling at each other the moment they were assembled.

"Studying under a Muggle, Malfoy? What would Daddy say?" Harry said the instant he stepped in the room and saw Draco already in the front row.

Draco sniffed. "I don't see how it's any of your business." Sitting next to him was not the pretty girl from the train, but an entirely different pretty girl and one of the boys from the train. They both shot death glares at Potter, who did not even seem to notice them.

"Potter?" Ed said. "You're taking my class?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Ron refused, so Hermione wrote my name in without telling me."

"You may enjoy it, Harry," Hermione said, shifting her massive floof of hair over one shoulder.

"Come vor a few days," Ed said. "Drop zee class iv it isn't for you. And that goes to all ov you."

There was a ripple of murmurs. Ed rolled his eyes. "I von't lie to you. Alchemy is not easy. Iv you vant to learn enough even vor simple transmutations you must study thoroughly. It vould not be fair iv I didn't give you an out."

Granger looked like she was on cloud nine as she took her seat. _Masochist_ , Ed thought. But then, Hermione was not the only person who looked invigorated by the promised challenge. The group in blue and bronze looked pleased, the group in yellow and black looked determined, and the group in green and silver, well. They were smirking.

Those smirks wouldn't last very long, Ed was sure. In fact, they mostly faded when he passed out his handwritten periodic tables.

"You'll need to memorize zese," he said. "Name, symbol, atomic number, molar veight. Everysing."

The Malfoy brat was taking it in stride, but the boy and girl on either side of him looked utterly confused. "What _is_ this?" the girl asked.

"Periodic Table of Elements," Ed said. "Everysing in zee universe is made up of zese base substances. Including us. You see, to successfully vork any transmutation zee alchemist has to _understand_ vat zey are changing."

"That sounds suspiciously like muggle science," said the boy on Draco's other side.

"It is," Ed said. "I am not vizard. Alchemy can be learned by anyone, but it is vat inspired your transfiguration and zerefore it is at least historically important to you veirdos."

The boy decided to quit while he was ahead. Good. Ed wrote two phrases on the blackboard. One was the Law of Conservation and the other was Teacher's adage. "One ov zese is a universally acknowledged concept of Alchemy. Zee ozer is one zat my Teacher values, and zat I also value."

"Zee virst I will explain today. Zee ozer, you vill haff to vigure out on your own before I can teach you shit. I'll cover only zee chemistry and physics to alchemy until you all can answer me zat truth. And zen we can start learning zee runes and circles you vill need to draw."

There was immediate outrage from the class, and Ed almost wanted to murder them all. Instead, he plotted his revenge in the form of homework.

 _Run three miles before Friday_. The outrage was even worse, but this time Ed just laughed at their pain. "Oh, come on you vlabby babies. You don't even haff to run it all at once!"

They settled, but it was a long time before Ed could even get into the very introductory lesson he'd planned for the day. Good thing he'd budgeted in extra time for chaos.

By the time the fifth-year class rolled around, and Alphonse shuffled into the room with the blonde girl from the train, decked in blue and bronze, Ed was ready to collapse.

"You little shits are lucky," he said to the fifth years. "You have my baby brozer in zis class - he's a hell ov a lot more patient zan I am so you can use him as resource."

Al waved awkwardly at the rest of the room. "Please do," he said. "And iv any ov you vant to help me vis magic, I vould be grateful."

With Al's help, lesson number whatever went much more smoothly than the others. Well, it probably helped that the volatile Potter-Malfoy duo wasn't in attendance. And Ginny, who might have been fiery enough to to start a fight over _something_ looked like her brain was broken after five minutes.

Which, Ed decided, was probably fair. He always forgot that most children didn't start studying advanced mathematics at three.

"Listen," Ginny finally said. "I want to learn alchemy, but what the fuck even is this?"

Ed laughed. "Keep studying and coming to class. It vill make sense eventually."

"Sure," she said, flipping a sheaf to hide her face. The curse of red hair, there, is that it didn't do anything to make her less visible.

"If anyone needs help," said Alphonse. "I can host a veekly study sessions. It might help get you all caught up on zee math."

Ginny shot him a grateful look, and Ed realized that these wizards may actually be worse at science than his summer school kids. Perhaps even worse than Mister Needed-to-write-a-slang-dictionary-to-pass. Ed felt a small piece of his soul shrivel up and die.

But at least Ginny was thrilled to hear about the three-mile homework.

When the class ended, Al lingered in the classroom. Ed ruffled his hair. "How was your first day of classes?" He said in Amestrian.

Al smiled. "I'm only half way through, brother. But it's good!"

"How does the workload seem?"

"Honestly, I think it might be a lighter workload than Hermione had me on over the summer."

Ed laughed. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

"It's weird, sleeping in a dorm," Al said. "I mean we slept in some pretty weird places back home, but dorms are a new level."

"We slept on park benches," Ed said flatly.

"I know," Al said, and Ed realized the subtext. At least on park benches, they were _together,_ and Al's sleepless armor could watch him.

Ed understood absolutely. The separation anxiety had gotten to him too. Ed put a hand on Al's shoulder. "We'll get used to it," he said. "Even if we'd stayed home and I'd gone with my initial plan, we'd have grown up eventually."

Al nodded. "I know," he said. "But at least back home everyone knew the story."

Ed snorted. "It was a very open secret by the end of things, wasn't it?" The fact that they'd technically tried to hide their human transmutation was laughable in hindsight.

"We were never good at following orders," Al agreed, mirth shimmering in his eyes. Even after a year, seeing real emotion in his brother's _eyes_ was a thrill. The armor had been surprisingly expressive, but it wasn't a human face.

"You should get to your next class," Ed said. "Last stop before dinner."

Al nodded vigorously. "It's transfiguration, and I think I'm terrified of Professor McGonagall."

"She's a lot like Teacher. That alone makes me glad I can't be a student here."

Al lightly swatted his arm, picked up his back, moved to the door. "Good luck in your last class of the day, brother!"

Then, he was gone. The last class of the day was miserable, and dinner was worse.

Up in Dumbledore's office, Ed punched the only wall that wasn't covered in bizarre trinkets. Only the delicate knuckles of his newly flesh arm stopped him from doing any real damage. Sure, the plaster crumbled minutely under his fist, but this wasn't the steel arm of the Fullmetal Alchemist. The wall didn't come down around his head.

"Are you alright Mr. Elric?"

Ed sighed, whirled from the wall, and sat abruptly in the chair across from Dumbledore's desk. "Yeah," he said. "It vas a long day."

Dumbledore gave him an assessing look. "Well, I brought you in to talk about young Mr. Malfoy's outburst, but perhaps we should talk about your mental health."

"No," Ed said. "Vee can talk about Malfoy. I sink vee may vant your help, anyway."

"We?"

"Malfoy, Alphonse, and I. Vee are staging a jailbreak."

Dumbledore blinked. "What?"

There were very few things, Ed was sure, that could render Albus Dumbledore speechless. But this did it. It took a moment of floundering before he offered a coherent response. "I'm afraid you've been duped. The child has been ordered to kill me by Tom."

"I know about zee orders from zee Moldy Bastard. I'm hoping to kill him before Malfoy has to act on zem. But who zee hell is Tom?"

Dumbledore gaped at him, and Ed never got a real answer to the Tom thing. "Severus says that he seems very devoted to the cause."

"Zee Moldy Man is using his mozer as collateral. Of course he's devoted to zee cause. But he'd rather get out ov it, so we're breaking in, getting out Ollivander and his mozer and vat ever ozer prisoners zey've managed to take, and vee're getting zee fuck out ov zere. If I get to kill zee Mold in zee process? All zee better."

"It must be a trap, young man," Dumbledore said. "The Malfoys have been practitioners of the Dark Arts for centuries."

Ed shrugged. "You can be into illegal shit vizout vanting Moldy people in power. Besides. Al bonded us in an Unbreakable Vow, so he can't do shit."

And that was when Dumbledore kicked him out of the office. "Get out. I need to think," he said. "You've thrown years of planning into chaos."

"It's vat I do best, according to everyone I'fe ever vorked viz!" Ed said with forced glee. He didn't miss the fact that the hand that closed the door on him was black and gnarled.

"All right," he said to the air in Amestrian. "I think that went well!"

* * *

 **Word Count** **:** 4,200

Whoo! A lot happened in this chapter. I don't know if I gave each event the attention it deserved, but I desperately needed to get this chapter off my desktop before November 1st, because of NaNoWriMo.

I know I technically started this fic in November of 2016, but typically November is a no-fanfiction-zone. Just because I like to take the boost to my word counts for my original fiction. The point is, I probably won't post again till December. In light of that, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter.

Thanks for reading! I'll see you in the reviews section!


	20. Time to Move

_**Author's Note**_ _ **:**_ Well. I had every intention of getting this to you in early December. And I had _most_ of it written by the 10th. But that last scene did not want to happen, and when I finally wrote it, I got thrown a curveball. So, waiting as long as I did to write the very last scene may have done _weird_ things to the plot of this story. Whoops.

I hope you all enjoy!

 _ **Disclaimer**_ _ **:**_ WolfishMoon doesn't own Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist. She doesn't make any money off this whole shenanigan.

* * *

The Scientist's Lament

Chapter 20

Time to Move

* * *

The rest of Ed's first week at Hogwarts left him damn near homicidal. He had students dropping from his classes left and right. Al's class, the fifth years, had the highest retention rate and while Ed had always known that Al would be a better teacher, there was something there that rankled.

Astonishingly, Potter was still holding on in the 6th year class, but Ed was certain that it was thanks to competitive stubbornness against Malfoy. Potter couldn't drop the class, because that would be admitting he couldn't hack something that Malfoy was decent at. And _that_ had been a surprise.

Ed expected Granger to excel in Alchemy - she alone among the wizards had maintained her science education. Even the ones who'd been raised initially by normal, rational people, Ed found, had stopped their traditional education after being admitted to Hogwarts. She had a tangible head start and he wasn't surprised to see it bear fruit. Ed had also expected Malfoy to be all talk. He wasn't.

Friday's class proved that well enough, with Draco turning over his periodic table on his desk, standing, and elegantly reciting them in order by atomic number. _Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium, Boron..._ "You didn't need to haff zat memorized till next veek!" There had been a quiz on the first ten elements, surely enough. But Malfoy hadn't needed to memorize _all_ of them.

Malfoy gloried in his academic prowess, so Potter and Granger fumed.

After class, Ed caught Draco as he was leaving and asked about it. Draco gave him a rare tired smile - one that wasn't fueled by cock-sure sarcasm. "I told you that I studied Alchemy in my free time," Draco said. "I never got very far - I was working with the classical elements of earth, air, water, and fire. But I knew vaguely that Alchemy's output only ever equaled input and I had the benefit of needing maths for my arithmancy classes. I've even managed some small earth-based arrays."

Ed was caught somewhere between shock and horror at that statement. He feigned humor instead, snorted before he said, "You vere lucky you never suffered a rebound."

Draco nodded. "I know. But I wasn't trying to change composition at all, just shape. So, it wasn't the disaster it could've been. Seeing this muggle chemistry stuff makes everything click in a way it didn't before. "

Ed took a moment to consider everything, leaning back on his desk and studying the boy who was technically no younger than Ed himself. "I know you haff had some successes, but please. Until you understand zee riddle. Don't try anymore arrays."

Malfoy put his nose in the air, and though he assured Ed that he would not, there was a defiant light in his eyes that made Ed sincerely doubt that he'd be following instructions. "Iv you decide to ignore me, just make sure zat you haff more material zan zee transmutation calls vor in zee circle! Zee equation doesn't haff to use it all, but iv you don't haff enough it _vill_ take it vrom you!"

Malfoy rolled his eyes and stalked out of the classroom, and really Ed's only option was to hope for the best. If he was _lucky_ , Malfoy wouldn't do anything stupid. "And this," he said to the empty classroom in Amestrian. "Is why I didn't want to teach any of them any runes too early." Because Malfoy _hadn't_ figured out the riddle yet. None of them had. And worse, none of them even seemed to have an instinctive understanding of the concept. Magic had ruined them to understanding the normal flow of life.

"Brother," Alphonse said, when Ed bitched to him about it. "Be fair. It took us the whole month and we had the right set of environmental stimuli." Ed couldn't deny that. But. Wizards were still astronomically stupid.

That night, Ed checked in on the running logs. Flitwick had provided him with charmed wristbands for each student that tracked their distance and time and automatically recorded it all on a chart that hung in his office. Granger, ever the overachiever had clocked in at four miles exactly. Malfoy had done only the three. The other Slytherins in year six had each done two and a half, except for the Greengrass girl, who'd done three and a half.

The Hufflepuffs had mostly done the assignment. The Ravenclaws had done the least running combined. The standout achiever, from all the grades, had been Ginny, who'd run a full six miles before Friday. Her Periodic Table quiz, which had only required memorizing the first ten on the table, stood among the worst though, so her score for the week came to average.

Ed was frustrated, sure, but he was so exhausted that he fell into the first true and deep sleep he'd had at Hogwarts. It had just taken minor fury at his students to get him there.

Saturday morning dawned bright and clear - the sun fell across Ed's face, waking him from that blessed, nightmare free, sleep. The sheets slipped across his skin and across the pressure plates of his automail leg. And then set in the blood curdling sensation of wondering what time it was and whether he'd missed breakfast. The sun was high.

Ed rolled toward the edge of his bed, forcing the aching port of his automail leg to cooperate. _Wham_. Well. He was off the bed, and the fall had chased the last of the cobwebs from his eyes. He stood, stretched, and glanced to the time. It wasn't as late as he'd feared.

If he put his hair into a ponytail instead of a braid, he'd make it down to breakfast with enough time to shovel some food into his face.

"Slept in, I see," was Snape's snide remark when Ed shuffled into the Great Hall.

"Vell," Ed said, debating between answering sincerely or sarcastically. "At least zee sleep did somezing vor me. You could sleep vor days and your face would still be awful."

"Charming," he said, scowling as Ed took his seat next to him.

"You started it." And on Ed's other side, McGonagall was smirking into her tea, so he figured he won this round. "And I'm doing you a favor - I sink I haff supplanted you as least vavorite teacher here." He piled eggs and bacon onto his plate, just glad that the table hadn't been cleared for the post meal fruit and coffee.

"Yes, I'd heard about your ill-advised attempt to make the children exercise."

"Ill-advised my ass," Ed said. "To train zee mind, one must virst train zee body. I don't sink vizards understand zee principal."

Snape was clearly not going to set himself up for a losing battle, so he just scoffed. Dumbledore, who was sitting on Snape's other side, long mustachios dangling in his pumpkin juice, said, "If you would like to be the faculty advisor for a gym club," Dumbledore said, "We can meet in my office to arrange it."

Ed swore, and McGonagall raised an eyebrow at him. "I would hate to think you're all talk."

Hilarious. Ed had nothing against starting a gym club (aside from a feeling of general doom at the thought of accepting more responsibility), but he also knew Dumbledore was just trying to get him back into his office to plan other things. He snuck a glance at the Slytherin table and sure enough Malfoy was scowling at an owl.

Dumbledore reached over Snape and handed Ed a piece of parchment. "Today at one, do you think?"

"Fine," Ed barked. "I'll bring any students who vish to be involfed viz me."

"Perfect," Dumbledore said, pulling the orange-stained end of his beard out of his pumpkin juice, finally. It dripped onto his elaborate robes and Ed wondered, not for the first time, if perhaps age was taking a harder toll on the headmaster than any of them expected.

Across the Great Hall, at the Ravenclaw table, Alphonse too was looking at a letter. He looked up and the brothers locked eyes. Ed nodded. _Be ready, Al._ The blonde girl next to him – what was her name, again? Her performance was somewhat above average, but she was so permanently in the clouds Ed was terrified for the day she attempted a transmutation – looked up with a sharpness that belied her usual disposition. She sent Ed a smile, a clear attempt at projecting her usual haze, but her eyes remained speculative.

Ed shifted his gaze from his brother to his student, nodded again for good measure. Her smile widened, and he could see her work to project a hazy expression. Clouds drifted over the blue in her eyes in time with the clouds that crawled across the Great Hall's enchanted ceiling.

(Ed hated the ceiling. Truly. He'd spent so much time sleeping under the sky that eating under a fake was half depressing and half insulting.)

Alphonse, for his part, did not miss the exchange. He poked his classmate, and the girl's deliberate inattention was broken. She turned to Ed's brother and Ed turned to Snape, who's verbal harassment Ed had probably tuned out too much of.

"-muggle. Of course, you'd want a gym club."

Ed wasn't sure what had preceded that line, but he was going to answer it the same way he'd answered Malfoy in the hallway. "And zat is vhy I could kick any vizard's ass anytime no problem you ofergrown greaseball. Including yours."

"I would like to see you try."

"A few years back," Dumbledore said mildly. "I put Severus in charge of keeping students alive in the face of Gilderoy's disastrous dueling club."

And that was a referential statement that flew right over Ed's head. Gilderoy? He was so done with wizard names. But he understood the implication. "You haff tried to teach zee magic children how to fight," Ed said. "I vouldn't haff expected it ov you but zere it is."

"I do have some skill," Snape said. There was something sharp in his expression that Ed knew meant something. What it meant, he wasn't sure.

"Vell – proof? _–_ prove it." English man. Ed still hated it. "Vee should fight."

Snape drew himself up. "You propose we settle the matter with a duel."

"Fuck zat duel shit. Zee rules ov engagement are vor people viz death vish. Let's _fight_." _Dueling_. Was that even a thing past 1870?

"I don't know what example that would be setting for the students," McGonagall said, but her tightly held mouth was contorted in the closest thing to a grin that Ed had ever seen on her face.

"You vant in? I don't know how I veel about hitting old voman, but."

"Do I want _in?_ Are the professors all engaging in a full-staff fighting tournament then?"

"Vhy not? Let zee students see some real-life applications vor zee sings zey learn. I'd bet zat charms vould be a great vildcard."

The only normal-sized person on the teaching staff, who sat on the other side of the staff table, piped up there. "Charms are wonderfully effective in dueling."

"Fillius championed the tournament circuit for many years." Dumbledore sent the goblin-wizard an indulgent smile.

"And I retired to teach charms for a reason!" Flitwick said. "They were my specialty both academically _and_ in the arena!"

"I vould love to fight you, zen too!" Ed said. "I know how to fight alchemists, but vizards I really don't know how to counter, and I clearly need to learn."

"And why is that?" Dumbledore asked, a warning glimmer in his eyes.

"Knowing how to vight is important," Ed said. "You never know, really."

"Sensible. Is this something you learned from your alchemist father?" This came from Slughorn, who Ed had temporarily forgot existed. How he'd done that, when conversations with the man were all uncomfortable as hell, Ed didn't know.

Ed's father. Technically, if it hadn't been for Hohenheim's disappearing act, Ed wouldn't have learned to fight the way he did. He wouldn't have gone to Teacher and even his attempt at resurrecting his mother may or may not have happened. Ed wouldn't have joined the military. Ed swallowed. He thought he'd outgrown blaming his father for everything, but a kernel of resentment still swam somewhere in his belly.

"He didn't teach me. But I suppose he's indirectly responsible," Ed said, immediately cringed at how _that_ probably sounded. Sure enough, there was thunder in McGonagall's gaze.

Slughorn just hummed. His expression didn't change much, but Ed could see that the great walrus was alarmed. Good.

"I wasn't under the impression you had much access to your parents," Dumbledore said. "You've raised your brother all by yourself, after all."

Raise wasn't the right word – Al was only a year younger than him, after all. But aside from Dumbledore and McGonagall themselves, the wizards all thought Ed was eighteen, bringing the age gap to a full three years. Still. There was something in the statement that rankled. "Our teacher raised us," Ed said. "And zen vee raised each other."

And he wasn't even going to address the other part of the Old Man's weirdly personal public question. Asshole. Asking that sort of shit at the breakfast table. The rest of the table descended into awkward silence at the undeniably tone-deaf question.

Ed shoveled a last few bites of eggs into his mouth, wrapped up three pieces of toast in his napkin, and stood. "I guess I'll see you at one. To start zee club." He left the Great Hall with clunky steps and his head tilted forward.

The first place he went after his sulky exit was the owlery. He'd not made it there yet in his week-long tenure at Hogwarts, but the portraits pointed him in the right direction. On the double doors was a sign: 'Please close the door behind you." Normally a sign like that was an invitation to misbehave for Ed, and he had every intention of leaving the doors open until he'd _opened_ them.

"Oh shit!" Ed said in Amestrian, shutting the door jerkily behind him. The owlery was an odd combination of exceedingly neat and the largest mess he'd ever seen in his life. Even though it looked like the hay had been laid out recently, poop was all over the place. And. Was that an egg? Was Hogwarts speed dating for owls?

Every side panel to the room was made up of giant glass windows that stood proudly open and owls swooped in from outside and back again. That brought Ed to the owls themselves. They were all perched imperiously on fake branches that were hanging in midair at various heights. Up near the ceiling, Ed could see owls that were clearly off the clock for the day. They were cozied up and grooming each other in some cases, and in others they were simply off in corners by themselves or in piles, beaks tucked into their wings.

Perched on branches that hung within arm reach were the birds that felt themselves ready to work. Distantly, Ed spotted Potter's owl among them and he hightailed it to her. "Hed-vatever," he said in English. "Can you take zis to Potter?"

Her cold stare told him that she was offended that he even felt he need to ask. She thrust her leg pouch in Ed's general direction and he sheepishly tied the letter in place. "Thanks."

He turned to the owls at large. "Anybody else willing to help me out? I need two more volunteers."

The owls blinked at him and Ed tried not to scowl as he marched over the section of school-owned owls. "Two of you."

Two nondescript brown owls hopped down from their perches and Ed tucked the letters to Alphonse and Malfoy into their pouches. "You know zee people?"

The owls gave him disdainful looks before alighting through the windows and disappearing with their identical messages – _12:30, Alchemy Office. We need to iron out details before meeting with Dumbledore._

He wrote it to Alphonse in code, but he just had to risk interception of the other letters and hope that the messages were vague enough to be potentially about a gym club instead of the half-cocked infiltration of enemy lairs.

"Thanks," he said with a heavy tinge of sarcasm. The birds' distain didn't rankle. Really it didn't. But Ed was glad to leave the owlery and the imperious gazes of the birds that lived there in exchange for quietly waiting in his office, flipping through Al's year of magic textbooks and arranging his own curriculum for Monday.

Really the Owlery was almost as bad as the Great Hall.

Once settled in his office, Ed alchemically made copies of worksheets that had students match the atomic numbers to symbols to names of the elements for the paper homework. Made passive aggressive slips with the words "All is one, one is all" to hand out. Just to be a dick and remind the students of the very important not-riddle that stumped them all.

 _It took you and Al a month, Ed. In the perfect scenario to find the answer._ His students would find the answer with time and the extra exercise was good for that kind of thinking. Maybe he could plan a field trip to the greenhouses. Pomona had told him that she would be available to help him with anything. At the very least he could have his students start feeling out the elements in the soil and the plants and little animals carefully moving around and fueling the system.

Could a wizard understand soil microbiology? Good question. Even Amestris hadn't paid much attention to microbes.

Ed sighed, put the slips aside, slid from his chair to the floor and began counting out pushups. He didn't stop until his muscles were screaming – the weakened right arm especially – and he'd thoroughly lost count of how many he'd done. He rolled out of the position and started in on squats, attempting to engage his automail limb as little as possible. Relying on that strength was one way to keep a workout going nowhere fast.

When those muscles were burning and angry he turned to gently stretching out the hip and thigh that led to the prosthetic, wincing when he went a little too far in any direction and the metal port tugged slightly at the scarred skin it was grafted to.

Winry was damn good, but even her work couldn't keep Ed running perfectly after almost two years without her maintenance. Idly, he wondered if a quick _reparo_ would do anything to help him. If it acted anything like an alchemical repair, Winry would kill him if he so much as tried it. But there wasn't time to do any of that now, with Alphonse and Potter and Malfoy no doubt on their way. So instead of dragging out the oil and getting it over with, he rolled onto his back and set in on sit ups.

He and Alphonse hadn't sparred at all this first week, they'd been too busy with schoolwork and with making sure the kiddos were running their miles. They weren't even running together. Alphonse took the morning shift and Ed took the evening, to give Al time to do homework. They each ran several miles each night, watching for what students showed their face.

Flitwick had assured him that the charmed wristbands he'd given each student would faithfully record their running, but neither Ed nor Al were quite ready to trust magic. Especially when it came to teenagers who might find some magical loophole to avoid their assignment.

So instead of sparring on the green together, they ran laps around the school in shifts and _damnit_ Ed was missing his brother fiercely. They would have to find the time, especially with their break-in looming ever closer.

He had just switched from sit ups to burpees when there was a knock on the office door. He paused mid leap, took his landing carefully, and opened the door. Potter, Malfoy, and Alphonse weren't alone and in retrospect Ed wondered how he'd expected differently. Next to them were Granger, Boy Ginger, _and_ the blonde girl from the train. Granger looked sternly disapproving, Boy Ginger was rippling with hostility, and Blonde Hair Blue Eyes was looking in completely the wrong direction at the vacant hallway. Why the fuck were they here?

"-uck you too, Malfoy. Really why are you even here?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you, Potter, you self-righteous cretin."

"Do you even know what the word cretin means?" Granger said.

"I used it correctly, didn't I? Really it's your little ginger boytoy you should be worried about."

"Oi!" said Ron.

"Shut up, all ov you, vee haff work to do."

"He started it!" Harry said.

"Did I? Because I seem to recall – "

"I don't giff a shit, get in."

Behind them, Alphonse was shaking his head. "Zey're just like you, _bruder_."

"I am nothing like that muggle," Draco said. "I have subtlety, for one thing."

"Do you?" Ed said. "Because I haffen't seen you use it. Vhile I may not be subtle vor shit, I know plenty ov scheming bastards vis political aspirations. You don't efen rank."

Ed grabbed them both by the collar and dragged them bodily over the threshold. When Alphonse and the rest of the brigade stepped through, Ed slammed the door and Harry pulled his wand out of his sleeve.

"Vat are you doing vis zat?"

But Potter somehow refrained from pointing it at Malfoy, instead turning to the door and pronouncing, carefully, " _Muffliato."_ Ed didn't see any change, but the wizards in the room all seemed to feel it take, quirking their heads to one side in identical expressions of curiosity.

Harry shrugged. "I dunno what it is. Think it might keep us from being over heard."

The group at large looked stunned, and Ed couldn't blame them. Harry had not seemed to be the person in the group to come up with new spells on a whim. That was Granger. Every single time. "You tried an unknown, untested spell on Professor Elric's door?" Granger said. "That is so irresponsible, Harry."

"You aren't efen supposed to be here, Granger," Ed said.

Her mouth dropped open, then closed resolutely. She said, "We're a unit, the three of us. You want Harry, you get me and Ron too."

"I didn't vant Harry, eizer," Ed said, scowling. "Zee smaller zis operation is, zee smaller the risk."

"The larger the operation," Granger said, "The more backup you have when Malfoy inevitably turns on you."

"Last veek you vere defending Malfoy to me against Potter's paranoia." Ed gestured from Malfoy to Harry and saw that Malfoy looked almost touched at that. Conversely, Potter looked betrayed.

"He's always been an egotistical purist," Granger said, and Malfoy's grateful expression replaced with disdain. "But before the train ride we didn't have proof that he'd taken the Dark Mark and was hosting _Voldemort at his house."_

"We weren't exactly having tea every afternoon, Granger." The disdain had turned to fury. Ed knew he wasn't one to talk, but really this child's blood pressure must be through the roof. "Excuse me for doing anything I could to avoid torture."

Granger blinked, crossed her arms to compose herself. "There's always a choice."

Malfoy scoffed and turned to Ed. "Why is she even here?"

"You heard her," Ed said. "Iz not like I invited her. But Potter comes in a pack ov three."

"You could use us both," Granger insisted. "We've gotten Harry through five years' worth of scrapes. We can get all of you out of this one."

"Really Professor," Ron said. "Someone needs to be the normal bloke with common sense. Even 'Mione can't help you with that one."

Ed clenched his fists. This was getting ridiculous. "Alphonse und I have gotten ourselves out of more scrapes zan you can imagine. But. Iv you insist, you do already know about zee scheme. So, vat all _five_ of you – don't sink I vorgot you, Blonde Girl – are going to do is sit down and shut up. Alphonse and I vill go over zee details."

"Do you forget, muggle, that I have the plans to the house?"

"You vill haff your turn to talk Malfoy. But right now, you are going to listen vor once in your fucked-up life. _Verstanden?_ "

Malfoy soured but joined the circle of teenagers perched on Ed's desk. It struck him, then, that this was the first time in his life that Ed was scheming with people his own age. Ed grinned. Surely, _surely_ , fellow teenagers would be more willing to jump into stupid situations than say Mustang or Hawkeye or Armstrong.

Ed could not contain his shit-eating grin, even when his students began to look more than a little unnerved. "So. Zee plan is zis. Malfoy's personal elf is going to appearify (or vatever it's called) us into zee Bad-But-French place. Probably next weekend. Vee can iron out zat date viz Dumbledore. Vee vill haff people vee need to hide and as much as I kind ov dislike zee Old Man, he's zee one vis access to safe houses."

"You're using an _elf?_ " said Granger, standing up from her own perch on the cluttered desk. "And here I thought that you and Alphonse would be a shoo-in for S.P.E.W."

"Vat's spew?"

Granger began to spell out the acronym, but Boy Ginger proved himself useful by cutting her off. "Don't ask, mate. Err. Prof. She'll go on for hours."

Ed grimaced. "Vee can talk about it later, Granger?"

She scowled but nodded and shuffled back on her perch. Ed continued onward. "Zee elf will take us directly to zee prison area, and Malfoy will go from zere to collect his mozer. He vill zen make his own vay out of zee manor. Zee elf will stay vis us, because vee aren't keyed into zee Malfoy wards and Malfoy, obviously, is. Vrom zere, vee vill collect zee prisoners and apparate zem out ov zere by twos to vatever safe house Dumbledore sets up vor us. I vill leave last."

"But!" Potter said. "You can't leave last! You don't even have magic!" He brandished his wand, sparks shooting from the end. He jumped at that, and carefully pointed it back at the ground. Ed rolled his eyes. If that had been a gun, the entire room would have just been sprayed with bullets. Idiot.

"A wand may be more versatile zan gun, but please treat it like veapon. Anyvay. Alphonse'll leave last vis me," Ed said, glancing to Al who confirmed that. "Vee haff sing vee need to try to do vhile vee're zere."

Potter glared. "What thing, Professor Elric."

"None ov your business."

"I think it's the Chosen One's business," Potter said. "If everyone expects me to finish Voldemort, I deserve all the information."

Ed sighed. That. Was not incorrect. He weighed the costs and benefits in his head and _knew_ that if Potter knew that part of the plan, he would try something vaguely suicidal to help. It's what Ed would do and while Potter was technically Ed's age, even he didn't have the same kind of battle experience. Ed suddenly empathized with the adults in Amestris who handcuffed him to hospital beds.

"Trust me," Ed said. "Al and I haff it covered, and it's personal besides. Iv vee need to get out fast, zee elf vill be vis us."

"We've been in worse scrapes," Al said, sounding almost properly British. Ed flinched at the sound of it but disguised it by reaching for the floor plan to Malfoy Manor that Draco had spread on the desk. He studied it for a moment.

"So many vorse scrapes," Ed said, placing the plans next to a stack of blank paper. He reached for a vial of ink, dumped it over the blank stack. Granger winced at what Ed was sure looked like a heinous waste of paper. "I'm making copies." And with that, Ed slapped his two flesh palms together through his gloves, closed his eyes as he felt the equation balance, and opened them again as he crouched down and slammed his hands to the stack of the paper.

Distantly, he could hear gasps of astonishment. It had been so long since he'd performed alchemy in front of even a small crowd, and he could feel the adrenaline of it thrumming in his blood. The ink seeped into the paper and arranged itself. Ed glanced back at the original plans for reference, but really, that detail had been keyed into the very equation in his mind. In the corner he included _Elric Print Services._ There. Perfect.

Ed picked the small stack up from the floor when the last of the blue lightening faded. "And now I hope you all see vhy I am alchemy teacher."

"All right I mean I logically knew there hadn't been back when we first met, but. Where was the transmutation circle?" Granger said, and Malfoy glanced at her having clearly noticed the same thing.

"Don't ask," Ed said. "Iv you follow any ov my instructions, it vill be somesing you'll never be able to do."

"And you don't vant it, either," Al said. He smiled, his face betraying a lingering sadness that stabbed Ed somewhere in whatever pocket he'd stored his ample residual guilt. "It isn't worth zee cost. Iv you learn how to use basic circles creatively, it can be almost as vast."

"I don't understand this bloody circle business," Boy Ginger cautioned, hands splaying palms out and shoulder width apart. "But does that mean you can do it too?"

Alphonse winced, and Ed understood that his brother may not have wanted to give that away. "I can. But you don't vant to know vat vee paid."

Blonde Girl's eyes gained a moment of clarity, haze lifting from her expression. She placed one hand on Al's shoulder and the other on Ed's, fingers landing where the next piece of metal was beginning to surface. Ed winced, but it was almost as if she'd predicted tenderness and inflammation there, because her fingers landed gently and sapped the heat from the spot even through his clothes. "Certain admission prices are altogether too high. There are some plays that I would rather miss, no matter how philosophically relevant they are."

There was subtext behind those words. "Admission price?" Ed asked, eyes shifting to Blonde Girl.

"Even just to get through the gate."

What. "Vat did you say your name vas, again?" Even Alphonse was visibly perturbed, gently patting the hand that was on his shoulder before carefully extricating himself from it.

She smiled, the haze slipping back over her eyes. "Luna. Luna Lovegood. I hope you've been assigning my grades to the right person."

Ed blinked. "I can assign grades just vine. Anyvay you're zee only one who didn't explain. Vhy are you even here? Zose three may be a solid unit, but I sought you vere more an auxiliary arm."

"That was cruel, Professor Elric," Granger said, thought for a moment. "But actually, I have no idea how she found out about this."

"My fault," Al said, sheepishly. "She saw zee note zis morning and, well."

"It feels wrong, somehow," she said, with that airy voice. "To sit back when I know there's a fight somewhere that I should join."

"How thoroughly Gryffindor of you, Looney," Malfoy said, lip curling. He turned to Alphonse. "How could you let her come?"

Al shrugged. "Eve insisted?"

"Zee cat?" Ed said.

"She's part kneazle," Luna said, as if that was any proper explanation.

And somehow Ed knew that was the best answer he was likely to get. "Fuck zis," he said. "Vee need to meet vis Dumbledore in like five minutes."

Granger frowned, waved her wand, said, "Tempus." Her eyes flew wide. "We're going to be late!"

"Vho cares? He is bastard anyvay," Ed said. Al switched to Amestrian to give Ed a thorough tongue lashing on that one, and Ed winced. "All right! Iv being punctual is so important to all ov you, let's put your running homework to zee test! You're all Gym Club vounding members, avter all!"

He didn't even wait for his shitty wizard students before kicking open the door and pelting down the hallway.

" _Bruder!_ " But Ed knew he could trust Al. Sure enough, Al kept to the back of the pack watching for stragglers. And maybe it had only been a week, but a week of consistent running (none of Ed's new students were fit enough to manage three miles in one go) had made them all nearly capable of a five-minute dash to the headmaster's office.

"Zat vasn't very nice, brother," Alphonse said when they came to a halt at the gargoyle-entrance. Even Malfoy's hair was bedraggled from the run, and Ed was sure Malfoy used spells to keep it in place. Granger looked like she sorely wanted to chew him out, but all the kids were breathing too hard to it. Ed's favorite way of avoiding confrontation. When, at least, he was pretending he didn't thrive on confrontation.

Alphonse very politely gave the gargoyle the password and the spiral escalator-style staircase descended into view. Granger gave Ed one last glare and huffed out one last hard breath and stepped onto the stairs before everyone else.

"I suppose she's allowed to be pissed," Ed said before following her, not looking back to make sure the rest of his small crowd of students and compatriots followed. They did, of course, and even Dumbledore looked a little uncomfortable with how many people were abruptly involved in their scheme when they came into view of the office. Because really. Seven was excessive.

"Dear boy," Dumbledore started with, which had Ed bristling before their conversation had even begun. "I thought you said you wanted to be discreet."

Ed sighed deeply. "I had zee best of intentions."

Alphonse snorted, said, "Brozer isn't a naturally discreet person."

"I gathered." Dumbledore waved his wand and chairs abruptly appeared behind each of them. "Please sit, have a lemon drop." Alphonse's hazy blonde housemate was the only one to take one.

"You're zee one who got caught by Head-In-Clouds, Al. Shut up. Anyvay, Old Man, who are you talk about discreet? Zee only vay you can think to meet viz me is by contriving a Gym Club?"

"This isn't helpful," Granger said, spreading her copy of the plans to Malfoy Manor on the desk. If she looked a little too satisfied with herself to be pushing Dumbledore's papers into disarray, Ed didn't comment on it. "We need to have a solid plan and really we should do this before next weekend."

"So soon, Miss Granger? I was under the impression that you were the sensible one."

Granger scowled. "The longer we stall the longer we give Malfoy here to betray us."

"He von't," Ed said, the phrase almost rote.

"Really? And you know this how? You've known him _so_ long, after all."

"Please," Malfoy said. "Like you know me so well."

"I know you well enough to punch you in the face." That sort of threat didn't sound like Granger. Ed glanced sideways at his student, and then back at Draco, who winced. And really. That wasn't threat in Granger's eyes. That was nostalgia?

"Please tell me zat really happened," Ed said.

" _Bruder!_ "

"Should detentions have been assigned?" Dumbledore said, eyes still twinkling. Damn that twinkle.

"Yes," Malfoy said at the precise time Ron said,

"No. Bloody jerk had it coming."

"Thank you, Ronald," Granger said.

"Not the sort of thing a proper witch would do," Malfoy said, and Granger had her wand pointed at him in seconds flat, almost as though trying to prove that she could fight like a witch.

"Glad to see you're still a blood purist," Potter said. "We can't trust him."

"I think everyone needs to take large steps away from each other," Alphonse said. "We have the allies we have, and there's nothing we can do about it."

"Why do you two trust him?" Ron said. "I mean I know I wasn't exactly suspicious of him before the train fiasco but why are you willing to put our lives – your lives – in the hands of this prat?"

Ed sighed. "Vould it be weird if I said zat vee put our lives in worse hands before?"

"What?" That was said almost simultaneously by all quarters of the room.

"They had their reasons," said Luna, one of the two holdouts from the chorus.

The other holdout was Dumbledore. "We cannot allow discord and malcontent to spoil our plans," he said, changing the subject entirely. "And we must start on those plans at once. If the seven of you cannot put your arguments on hold for just a few minutes there is no possible way that you can enter a combat scenario and come out of it with your lives. Please. Learn to work together or leave this to your comrades. Young Mr. Malfoy is our in, and without him this whole mission would not be possible."

"Exactly," Ed said, finding himself in rare agreement. "Now shut up and let me talk."

Dumbledore extended an inviting hand and Ed took his cue to rehash the plan they'd decided upon in his office. "So really, the only question is _when_."

"Wednesday night," Granger said immediately. "It would be the most inconvenient time for students and teachers to leave the school, so it'll make our identity not immediately obvious."

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said. "Do you remember your third year?"

Her expression turned guarded, hand twitching as though she wanted to reach for something. "Yes?"

"And you remember your schedule?"

"Of course," she said. "But I gave that back."

Dumbledore gave her a disbelieving look. "Did you?"

"You think a fourteen-year-old could have made a fake to fool Unspeakables?"

"I don't know."

"Why is this even a factor?" Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, and Ed had come to recognize that as a tell for when she felt backed into a corner. Potter and Boy Ginger both clearly recognized that tell too, because they were looking at her like she'd grown a second head.

"Wouldn't solid alibis do you all favors?"

"I gave it back," Granger insisted.

"What a pity," Dumbledore said. "But it's probably for the best that you didn't attempt to steal from the Department of Mysteries."

"But," she said, her voice breaking with anxiety. "I may have taken it apart and rebuilt it and made a copy. If that might help."

Dumbledore flinched, and Ed knew that the Old Man had barely restrained a jump. So he'd thought her capable of making a convincing fake but not capable of making the thing itself.

Malfoy and Luna both looked befuddled, and Ed knew he himself was.

"Vat is it, exactly?" said AL, and Ed nodded. Granger's hand quaked up to the gold chain that disappeared into her jumper. She withdrew the pendant and Ed's heart stilled. An hourglass imbedded in several golden circles all marked with numbers.

"You made a time turner," Malfoy said. "At fourteen."

Luna's own confusion lifted. "Oh that," she said. "You mean none of you knew?"

Ed, however, was stuck on time turner. While his brain short circuited, the plan moved forward.

"We move Wednesday morning," Granger said. "After we've already done the whole day once."

And finally, _finally_ , Ed reacted. "Vat. Zee. Fuck." Dumbledore looked triumphant.

* * *

 _ **Word Count**_ _ **:**_ 6578

At least this very late chapter is on the longer end of the scale? Please review folks, it always helps me get through things. Also, thanks to The Mightier Pen and Guest for giving me the kick in the ass I needed to finish this chapter up.

But really thank you to all of you. This whole experience has been really great.


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